A Fighter, Not a Lover
by kaibastar
Summary: Jarod travels down memory lane and explores the possibility of having a new family..one that doesn't want him. Ch. 12 Up REVAMPED!
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I do not pretend to own the rights to THE PRETENDER, it's characters, etc. I'm not making any money off of this. That's the important part, right?  
  
Author's Note: The truth hurts. I started this little story just under a year ago, and quite frankly it wasn't up to anyone's par. But like I've always told my critics, this will never be perfect. It can't be. If I expected to be perfect, then I would never post any of my work now would I? Through this I've learned the joys of the absolute torture of editing. I have to say that I do it all myself. So for all of those who are just mortified by my liberties with the English language, the only thing I can say is that I feel sorry for you. This story is meant to be enjoyed, not picked apart.  
  
  
  
A Fighter, Not a Lover  
  
  
  
"Just what the hell do you think you're doing here, wonderboy?"  
  
Her voice was soft and sultry even in it's hiss. Jarod felt her gun firmly pressed into his back. He swallowed hard. It had been a year since the plane crash and year since he had last heard her voice. He had remembered her words all too well the night he disappeared. He had pleaded with her, as a man violently in love would have pleaded. He pleaded with her to leave it all for him, leave the centre, leave the lies that had poisoned both their lives. She refused, along with extinguishing all hope of his finding happiness with her.  
  
"I've come to visit your father, Parker." He stated simply and carefully as he started to turn to face her.  
  
"Watch it. Move an inch and I'll shoot." Her voice remained firm, but barely above a whisper.  
  
"I thought that we were past that by now Miss Parker." Jarod replied, keeping his back turned towards her.  
  
"We're not past a damn thing. Just because you've disappeared for a year doesn't mean that you should expect a warm greeting."  
  
"This hard exterior of yours doesn't suit you Miss Parker, not after what I've seen. Doesn't it make you tired?"  
  
"The only thing that I'm tired of Jarod, is your games." Miss Parker replied, calmly.  
  
Miss Parker wasn't calm at all. In fact, she wanted to scream. Jarod was the last person she expected to find here, in fact, the last person she wanted to see. His disappearance had shaken the centre to the very core. The red notebooks and gifts stopped coming. There was no trace, no shred of evidence, nothing. The centre had turned the whole country upside down in search of him. In his disappearance, she had gained her freedom. Not in the way that she had expected, but freedom no less. Raines and her brother Lyle no longer breathed down her neck. They were so desperate just to hear from him, that they were willing to let her do whatever she damn well pleased. Except leave the centre. She was their last link to Jarod, their only hope. With her father gone, she was now Raines' equal, even her brother had to take orders from her. It was a life sentence, but a tolerable one, in Miss Parker's opinion. The truth of the matter was, Miss Parker had never been herself since the island, forever changed by the events that took place and nearly took place. The rules of the game had changed and Parker was now in charge. She had decided then that she would no longer be the instrument of further pain. The centre had stolen her life from her and from others all around her. But it didn't matter to her now. She could only hope for someone who still had a shot of a real life. She knew that safest place that Jarod could be would be one that was as far away as possible from her. The hairs had stood on the back on her neck as she felt his presence drawing near as she stood over her father's grave. It had taken two weeks to find her father's body, but they found it, washed up on the shores of France. Her father had loved Paris. As far as the question as to whether he really was her father, it didn't matter to her. So what if it wasn't possible. He was her father in her heart. No amount of lies or deceit could erase the years of love she had felt for him. Just the very sight of Jarod had frustrated her. It had brought back a rush of feelings that she had not expected. Intolerable. She didn't want to threaten him with her gun, but it was only way she knew how.  
  
"I could say the same myself about you, Miss Parker. It takes a very loving person to be here, after all this time."  
  
Parker grabbed Jarod by his shoulder and spun him around, "Does this 38 in my hand look loving to you?" She hissed, shoving her gun into his face.  
  
Jarod barely noticed the gun. He looked into Miss Parker's blue eyes and he suddenly became more endeared then he had ever thought possible.  
  
" We're not that much different, Miss Parker. We still want the same things."  
  
"Enlighten me, lab rat. What is that you think that I want? " Miss Parker spat, in disbelief.  
  
"Love. Not to be alone. A chance to lead a life with someone." Jarod whispered.  
  
"And you suppose that I should lead my life with you? Of all people, Jarod, you know that it will never be possible with you."  
  
"Impossible? Is it because of me or the fact that the centre would never allow it?" Jarod replied, his voice hollow. He was shivering in his black coat.  
  
" I want you to get this idea out of your head that there is something between us." Miss Parker replied, lowering her gun, trying to disguise the shaking of her hands.  
  
"But the island." Jarod began.  
  
"Was a figment of your imagination." Miss Parker coldly replied. She lowered her eyes. She couldn't bear to see the hurt look on Jarod's face. She sighed. She couldn't believe that she was going to say this. She felt sorry for him.  
  
"I'm a fighter, Jarod..." Parker said slowly..."not a..."  
  
"lover." Jarod finished, as he took a step away from her.  
  
  
  
"As always." Parker continued, aiming her gun towards him once again.  
  
"You run.and I chase." 


	2. Same Old Dance

Disclaimer: See Part One  
  
Same Old Dance  
  
Jarod had run away again. Only this time, Miss Parker wasn't chasing him. She had dislodged a few bullets into a few trees. That had been all. Apparently that was enough to scare him. Miss Parker wished that it hadn't. She had calmly walked back to her car, careful to keep her emotions from rising and bubbling out of her. She wanted nothing more then for him to come running back to her. Perish the thought. It was early morning, and as always she was at the centre. It was the cocoon that sealed her off from the rest of the world. She was sitting in her desk chair, facing the window, watching the sky darken and grow heavy with rain. She choked back a low sob as she recalled the events of the night past.  
  
Jarod.. you idiot," She began softly. "So easily scared."  
  
"Hey sis."  
  
"WHAT?"  
  
Miss Parker was irritated. She swung around in her chair. She had  
  
barely enough time to wipe the tears from her eyes so she could face  
  
Lyle. Damn those doors, not even a squeak to let her know that someone was coming.  
  
"You make it a habit to talk yourself these days?" Lyle asked, leaning in way too close towards  
  
his sister.  
  
Miss Parker narrowed her eyes. "Don't you have a skirt to chase?"  
  
"I think the more appropriate question is, don't you have a Jarod to chase?" Lyle replied nastily.  
  
Miss Parker laughed. She withdrew a file from her desk drawer.  
  
"You know better then to mess with the one who has your balls in her fist. " She coyly replied, as she motioned to the file she held in her hand.  
  
Before Lyle could respond, Sydney had walked into the room. It was only Nine A.M. and already Miss Parker looked like she was going to hit the ceiling. That look on her face usually came around three. Sydney smiled and began in his usual calm voice.  
  
"Careful Lyle. Miss Parker shot me in the leg once. And she didn't  
  
even mean to then."  
  
Lyle had a sour look on his face, not appreciating the interruption. An insincere smile spread across his handsome face. Sydney widely grinned back.  
  
"We'll just have to discuss this later, sis." Lyle replied, suddenly looking uneasy.  
  
And Lyle left the doors swinging behind him.  
  
Sydney smiled once more as he watched Miss Parker carefully return the file back into her desk drawer. She had to withdraw that file many times. She hung it over Lyle's head, like a dark cloud about to rain all over his twisted parade. Miss Parker still had her nasty reputation as a bitch, but no one cared. The people who really knew her knew that she had never been the same since she had returned from Isle of Carthis. No amount of prodding convinced her to confide in him, much to Sydney's regret. Whatever happened, something did. It was important enough to incur such a transformation. In just under a year, the centre's focus had completely changed under Miss Parker's leadership. It was as if she was desperately trying to make up for all that had been lost. Patients were released and reunited with their families. Sub-level twenty- seven had been completely cleaned out and shutdown. All connections with crime syndicates had been severed. Millions had been donated to charity. Even then, there were some things that were beyond her control, wrongs that she could not right. There was no way she could rip the walls of centre apart, to let the sunshine in, no matter how many times she considered it. None it of really mattered, no action she took ever satisfied her, her demons still kept her awake at night. He knew that, as much as she denied it. Whatever actions she had taken however, was enough to send Raines scurrying for another oxygen tank. And Lyle was just as unappreciative of taking orders from his older twin. Sydney was worried. Keeping the hungry dogs at bay had started to wear down on her soul. She had been looking very tired lately, the bags under her eyes had grown more apparent, the weight of world a little heavier on her shoulders.  
  
*********************************  
  
It had just begun to rain in Blue Cove. " The chase has stopped and yet I'm attempting to woo the woman who has been chasing me for the past six years." Jarod grumbled to himself as he drove the down long winding road. Was it wrong for him to feel silly? He hadn't expected to find her there, visiting her father's grave, although he hoped that he would. He hadn't expected for things to unfold the way they did. But she kept up her part of the bargain, refusing to melt in his presence, playing the part of the ice queen, perfectly. Just like she always did. It was the same old dance. A year had passed but what of it? Everything and nothing changed.  
  
He sighed as he felt the crushed gardenia in his jacket pocket. He had meant to give it to her, just like the one he had given her so very long ago. He had meant to remind her of that time, the time she wanted flowers from him, and so very much else. He pushed the thought out of his mind. It only made him want to grumble even more. He had his whole life before him, a family to be with, and a family to love.  
  
*********************************  
  
"I'm worried about you Miss Parker."  
  
"Well, I haven't been very passionate about my job lately." Miss  
  
Parker said with a scowl, as she crossed her arms. She had been sitting at her desk but rose out from under it and began to pace her office. Sydney had a wild-eyed appearance. As his gaze met hers, she tried her best to give him a reassuring smile. Sydney frowned. He had taken it as a sarcastic grin. This wasn't going to be easy, but Sydney dove right in.  
  
"Did you sleep well last night, Miss Parker?"  
  
Miss Parker shrugged her shoulders. She shot him a rebellious look.  
  
"Does it matter?"  
  
"Is this really what you want, Miss Parker, to live out the rest of your years in this place?"  
  
"That's a funny question coming from a person like you, Syd." Miss Parker replied calmly. She shifted her gaze downward, inspecting a nail.  
  
"This isn't what your mother wanted for you. Don't do her the injustice of staying here, in this godforsaken place."  
  
"This has nothing do with my mother. Look what I've done with this place Syd, I feel that I can do my best here." Miss Parker's eyes flashed angrily.  
  
"But are you satisfied? Can you atone for your sins here, Miss Parker?"  
  
Miss Parker abruptly paused. She wanted to slap this distinguished looking gentleman before her. She was astonished by his words and even more astonished at herself for realizing that he was telling the truth. Her work had become rewarding, but it wasn't enough. It was never enough, there was something missing, something leaving her cold and empty.  
  
"You want me to leave?" She asked, in a defeated tone.  
  
"What's holding you back?" Sydney replied gently, his voice suddenly thickened by his accent.  
  
"Besides," Sydney moved closer towards Miss Parker and lightly touched her shoulder. Miss Parker was taken aback, this rare display of affection only unsettled her even more.  
  
"What you want, it isn't here...its out there waiting for you."  
  
"And WHAT is that Sydney?"  
  
Miss Parker was growing exasperated.  
  
Sydney smiled a knowing smile.  
  
"Your life." 


	3. Gardenia

Disclaimer: See Part One  
  
Gardenia  
  
Broots had been swiveling in his chair for quite sometime. The new system that he had designed had just been integrated and he was waiting for it to finish downloading. He was daydreaming as always in the darkness of his office space, occasionally scratching his balding head. He paused for a moment, pondering the thought of trying Rogaine. There was nothing more then he missed then a full head of hair. It was that and being married. No, Broots concluded. That would be as obvious as coming to work dressed in a bear suit. Not to mention all the uproarious laughter he'd have to endure. It would be an improvement at best, Broots thought to himself bitterly. At least they'd laugh, and not see right through him, just like they always did.  
  
"Broots?" Miss Parker had just opened the door wide open, making her grand entrance as usual. Broots turned to look at her in all her glory. His face had turned a bright pink. He felt as he had been caught. It was also her that he had been daydreaming of. A spitfire dressed to kill in a snug and short black suit. Jesus. Broots couldn't help sucking in his breath. The woman had legs that went up to her neck. She intimidated him. He knew it and felt it with every fiber of his body. He was so attracted to her strength and her sheer bravado; it made his hairs stand on the back of his neck...  
  
"Yoohoo? Broots?" Ms. Parker had leaned her trim form over his desk and was snapping her fingers in his face.  
  
"I'm sorry Miss Parker. Just,"  
  
"in la-la land?" Miss Parker asked, rolling her eyes.  
  
"What do you want Miss Parker?" Broots was trying his best to compose himself but he couldn't help it. Having Miss Parker so close to his face embarrassed the hell out of him.  
  
"Broots, I'm maybe leaving." Miss Parker said matter-of-factly.  
  
"WHAT? What do you mean by maybe leaving?" Broots was dumbfounded.  
  
"Like. As in leaving the centre, moron." Ms. Parker continued, slightly rolling her eyes.  
  
"But I thought that since things had been going so well.." Broots broke off, unsure of what to say next.  
  
"Have they?" Miss Parker sighed.  
  
"Quite frankly, I'd much rather light a match and start over." Miss Parker replied, as she ran her fingers through her hair.  
  
Broots nodded. He couldn't help but notice that Miss Parker was combing her hair with her fingers. Miss Parker never touched her hair or her face, at least, not in anyone's presence.  
  
"Uh, when will you decide?" He asked meekly, after an awkward silence.  
  
"Not until I find out where they have placed my baby brother." Miss Parker replied simply.  
  
It had been a sore point for Miss Parker, not knowing where they had taken her brother. She didn't even know his name. He must have been three years old by now, that's all she knew. Since her father had died she had implored Raines and Lyle as to his whereabouts. That and letting her go were the two things that they refused to indulge her on.  
  
"Have you told Sydney?" Broots' throat had already gone dry.  
  
"No." Miss Parker sighed.  
  
"But he knows what I'm doing."  
  
With their plans settled, Miss Parker had strutted confidently out of the room. Broots however, was not so quick to recover. For years, Miss Parker's very existence had been tracking down and capturing Jarod, and now within just a year she shed this existence so very easily, it was as if she had been thinking about it all along. Sure, it hadn't been fun, the roach motel, being locked in a shipping container with her twin Lyle, yet it was these things that made her all the more determined. This wasn't like her. And with Miss Parker gone, what was he supposed to do?  
  
***************************  
  
He was on his way to another life. This was one however, was not a life that he conjured up. Jarod was done with being a pretender for the moment. Jarod had finally found his family. He had dreamed of this day more then anything else, since the day he knew he had parents. In his heart he knew that he would someday find them. That day was today. But the moment felt bittersweet. In his search for his parents, he had to finally turn his back on the two people he had cherished, despite the strange circumstances that they were in. As much as it broke his heart, Jarod felt that he had no choice. He disappeared before he even had a chance to regret his decision. He would finally be able to move on with his so-called life. He was finally free.  
  
He felt the Gardenia, now completely withered in his coat pocket once more. He remembered the day when he and Sydney had been working on a simulation on the effects of distribution of nerve gas through flowers. He had secretly stolen a clean Gardenia, and had given it to Miss Parker. He remembered breathing in the heavenly scent of the bloom and smile it had brought to her face. Did she even begin to know how that very smile of hers brightened his world? He swore that she had smelled of that scent ever since. When they were trapped together in the keys, he smelled that scent once more and instantly knew that she was still the same girl. And that he was as much in love with her then as he had always been.  
  
**************************  
  
The day had yielded nothing on the weekly search for Jarod. This was mainly done to keep up appearances with the Triumvirate. Broots had dutifully reported it once six p.m. rolled by. Miss Parker managed her best to smile at Broots. She remembered the day she told Broots to leave the centre, it was the same day an attempt had been made on her father's life. He never took her advice. She vowed silently that she would take her own. She had mistaken the most important things in life for the finest ones. She looked around her office, her vision blurred by her tears. There was the fine furniture, the detailed sculptures, the Italian tiles, the etched glass and the beautiful French oil paintings. These were all the spoils of a wasted life. Were all these fancy things deafening her? It had been a year since she last heard a whisper of her inner sense. Mom. It had been a year since she had heard from her, heard her reassuring voice. She felt the outline of the teardrop-shaped ring on her finger. For the second time that day Miss Parker wiped tears away from her eyes. This weakness irritated her. She rose from the plush leather chair and left the comfort of her office. She could hear the sound of her heels clicking on the marble as she walked down the narrow hallway. She would miss that sound. But would she miss this life? As usual, she refused to be escorted by centre guards. She bid them a goodnight as she slid into the drivers seat, wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes, careful not to smudge her mascara. She drove home, much too fast as usual, along the narrow country roadways in deep thought. They would kill her if she left. That was part of the package. Part of the job description. But would they kill her if she stayed?  
  
She had just reached her front door. All the windows were dark and she could hear her neighbor's dog barking. She knelt down to pluck a white gardenia from the bush that grew just outside the door. The bloom was already moist from the dew of dawn. She paused and closed her eyes, sighing a little. She opened her eyes, and the moment was ruined. The door was slightly ajar. Someone was in her home. Miss Parker frowned as she snapped into predatory mode. She removed her gun from her holster and with her knees slightly bent; she carefully entered her home...........  
  
TO BE CONTINUED 


	4. Small World

Part 4 Small World  
  
"I promised you that I would come back."  
  
Marianne paused. Careful to disguise her sigh of relief, she turned towards her brother Ethan. In some ways, she feared that she would never see him again. Just having him here was putting both of their lives in danger. Her face broke into a smile as he rose from the couch. He was terribly dressed but she was glad to see him just the same. He had beautiful brown eyes. They were trained on her just now, as he wordlessly wrapped his arms around her. She wasn't used to such a display of affection, her arms hanging limp at her sides, before Ethan took them and placed them on his shoulders. His actions embarrassed her but were quickly erased by the emotions that began to flood her heart.  
  
"You can't stay here." Miss Parker replied anxiously, her voice muffled by their embrace.  
  
There was a clicking sound, and a low laugh.  
  
"Our sister is right, you know. You can't stay here." A voice said.  
  
Her brother started to back away slowly, with a surprised look in his eyes. Lyle had placed his gun squarely onto his back and now had one arm wrapped around his neck. In one fluid motion, Miss Parker had at once raised her gun and pointed it towards her twin.  
  
"Just what the hell are you trying to accomplish here, Lyle?" Miss Parker asked, her voice suddenly flat and cold.  
  
"Following orders." Lyle solemnly replied.  
  
"Last I checked, it was me you took orders from." Miss Parker hissed, beginning to shake. Ethan's eyes had never once left hers. He seemed so calm, so unafraid. There was only one person that needed to be afraid and Miss Parker was scared to death.  
  
"I only take orders from myself." Lyle retorted with a smile. His blue eyes gleamed like that of a madman, sending shivers down Miss Parker's back. What a waste of a perfect navy blue suit, she surmised. Lyle looked impeccable. It made her wonder how many women he had seduced with that very smile he had so maliciously gave her. She still couldn't believe that this scoundrel was her very own flesh and blood.  
  
"I've come to inform you that your services are no longer needed. Don't look so shocked. It was only temporary. You weren't the plan sis. Only part of it."  
  
"What does that have to do with your gun in my brother' back?" Miss Parker hissed as she took a step forwards.  
  
"Oh him?" Lyle innocently asked as he brushed the barrel of his gun along Ethan's neck, taking pleasure in his victim's grimace.  
  
"Now it's just killing two birds with one stone."  
  
"You will not get way with this," Miss Parker hissed. "Just what you do want with him?"  
  
"I want nothing from him!" Lyle yelled out suddenly. His face had become twisted with rage.  
  
"It's what I want from you. Did sharing a womb ever mean anything to you? I am of your own flesh, your own blood, Miss Parker." Lyle began to laugh bitterly.  
  
"Is that actual hurt that I see in your eyes?" Miss Parker began in a mocking tone.  
  
"I would sooner believe that you crawled out from under a rock. This is between you and me, Lyle."  
  
"Yes, this is between you and me. But making Ethan a part of it makes it so much more fun." Lyle smiled, unfazed by what his sister just said.  
  
Miss Parker cried out in exasperation.  
  
"You let him go, Lyle!" She began to snarl. "I've killed you before and I'll do it again!"  
  
"God." Lyle suddenly exclaimed, his mouth hanging open.  
  
"You look even more gorgeous when you're terrified."  
  
"That's enough." It came out barely above a whisper, but it was more forceful then she had ever heard her brother speak.  
  
Ethan had acted upon the moment that he had been waiting for. Lyle had become vulnerable. He broke free, yanking the gun from Lyle's grasp. A struggle ensued, as their bodies became intertwined. It was not long before the sound of a single gunshot rose above them into the dead of night. Marianne aimed her gun at the one who had been the victor, now grunting and groaning.  
  
"Marianne?" He said softly. He was struggling to get up, blindly reaching towards her.  
  
Her eyes widened, uncharacteristically, she started to back away from the figure advancing towards her.  
  
"Marianne?" He repeated.  
  
"How do you know my name?" Miss Parker gasped. She couldn't decide what shocked her the most. The image of her twin, slumped onto the ground, bleeding all over the floor, or Ethan, calling out her name. No one had called her by her first name in years. The name sounded so sweet. It was irony that it belonged to someone who was far from it. She had refused to respond to that name ever since her mother died. She shakily dropped her gun and helped Ethan get off the floor. He smiled in gratitude as he steadied himself on her arm.  
  
"Jarod has always called you by that name."  
  
************************************** Their first embrace together had lasted a full twenty minutes. Then came the tears. Then came the laughter. The "I love yous" had been exchanged. It had been worth it. It was worth every penny he had ever spent, every breath that he had ever took. He would trade it all for these moments, and was completely overwhelmed by the fact that he did have it all. Jarod had finally found his family. He had wanted nothing else. His parents loved him and just as he had always hoped, never gave up searching for him. His days of a pretending were over and he finally learning who he really was. He was Charles and Margaret's son.  
  
The doorbell ring had Jarod leaping off the couch. He was ready for more. His father had told him that they were expecting Ethan. Jarod was virtually floating across the room to the door. He hadn't seen Ethan for more then a year. He never had much of a chance to really connect with him and was looking forward to furthering their relationship. He opened the door and all the color drained from his face. Ethan was casually standing in the doorway with a smile on his face. She was standing next to him, bright- eyed, the source of all his nightmares and his dreams. Miss Parker. He let his parents push through him, as he backed away, retreating into the shadows.  
  
"Marianne!" Margaret and Charles cried out in unison. "Is that you?  
  
You look just like your mother." Margaret cried, her arms already  
  
encircling her. Marianne could feel her arms, again hanging limp at her sides. She dared not lift her eyes. Jarod was just three feet away. Jesus.  
  
"I shouldn't be here." She whispered. Her mind was threatening to fall apart. She was already trying to withdraw from the old woman's grasp. It was Margaret's voice that brought her back to reality.  
  
"No, no." Margaret said, brushing back a strand of Marianne's hair.  
  
Marianne paused. Her heart ached, as she was suddenly reminded of her own mother. "I'm so sorry." She whispered.  
  
Margaret made no reply. She never heard her, in fact. She was already leading Marianne up the stairs.  
  
****************************************************  
  
It was late at night. Everyone had already gone to bed. But Marianne hadn't slept at all. She had not anticipated this. Seeing again Jarod made her feel ashamed. It frustrated her. She would sooner go down in flames then show her face here. Which was why Ethan bringing her here had astonished her. His parents had seemed sincere in their affections, which only confused her even more. Surely they knew what she had done to their son. What she had done to their entire family. She had drawn her knees up to her chin, slightly shivering in the cool wind that rustled through the back porch.  
  
**************************************** Jarod couldn't sleep. He had trudged about the house aimlessly, unsure of what to think. There was nothing that could prepare him for the emotional onslaught he had already suffered. It had been a small world after all. He thought that he would never see her again and he hoped for it, somehow it made it easier. He had finally found what he was looking for and he was ready to disappear. He wasn't prepared to have HER at his doorstep. Now what was he supposed to do? He found himself in the kitchen and noticed that the back porch light was on. He walked towards the glass door, peeking outside. It was too late. Before he could back away, Marianne had lifted her head, her eyes meeting his. A lump formed in his throat and foolishly, he tried to swallow it. His mind was screaming at him to get away, but his heart was dragging him towards her. He opened the door and walked outside, his eyes never leaving hers. Act casual. He told himself, as he approached her.  
  
"Is it okay if I sit here?" Jarod began quietly.  
  
"It's a free country." She replied thickly, as she shifted to make room for him, her eyes cast down.  
  
The silence was only for a few seconds but it felt like a few years. He was content just to be near her, even if she never opened her mouth. He was content just looking at her face, not really recognizing who was before him. Her hair was tousled and her makeup was smeared. More beautiful then ever.  
  
"I shouldn't be here Jarod." She began hesitantly.  
  
Jarod knew exactly what she had been thinking. His parents' reaction of her arrival was surprising to him as well. Nevertheless, her sudden omission shocked him.  
  
"My parents loved you as a little girl, why wouldn't they love you  
  
now?"  
  
"They cared for me didn't they?" Marianne said, finally able to lift  
  
her eyes to look at his.  
  
"I think it's safe to say that our ties run deeper then we know."  
  
"But don't they know that I'm the one responsible for keeping their son  
  
away from them?"  
  
"Yes they do. But they understand that I wasn't the only one, being held prisoner." Jarod replied simply.  
  
"You know that it's all over right?" Marianne said with a bitter smile.  
  
"They want me dead as much as they want you back."  
  
Her eyes met his and she instantly she realized why. He had taken hold of her hand and was lightly tracing the outline of her ring with his finger. Marianne's heart began to race. She wanted to yank her hand away, but couldn't. She tried desperately to diffuse the situation but she was too tempted. Too intrigued not to let him speak, not hear what he was going to say next.  
  
"Like I've said before," he began in a gruff voice.  
  
" I believe that there is more to you and me then I run and you chase."  
  
"Don't do this Jarod." She whispered.  
  
She looked up and wished that she hadn't. He was inching towards her, shyly, but coming closer. There was a desperate look in his eyes, a desire that she didn't want to deny.  
  
At first she thought that she had stopped breathing. But then she realized that she was just holding her breath, because Jarod's lips were on hers. His grasp around her shoulders had become firm and unyielding. She could feel the warmth of his body, pressed up against her own. It was as sweet as she remembered. It was a memory that had burned in her mind, taken possession of her soul. She knew truth. The truth was that nothing was better then a stolen kiss. She could feel herself melting into him, she felt herself returning his affections and in just a few moments they would become one. But her mind refused to stop it's race. Was this real? How could he have forgiven her so quickly? This was never meant to be. She began to resist, she pressed her hands against his chest, trying to break his embrace. His chest chair curled into her fingers, she shuddered at the shock of his bare skin underneath her hands. With one final shove, she broke away, grateful for her steady feet, as she sprung upward to stand.  
  
"Have you forgotten who the hell I am?" She began viciously, as she backed away from Jarod.  
  
"I am the woman who has made your life hell for the past six years!!" She cried.  
  
He was still swooning, not yet torn apart from his dream. He opened his eyes to find her away from him. She seemed desperate, her face a mixture of sadness and something else.  
  
"I thought that things had changed." He replied simply, in utter disbelief of his own composure.  
  
"Things have not changed." Marianne's voice was filled with hatred. She had no control over her emotions now. She only wanted to wipe that blissful look off his face. She only wanted to hurt him.  
  
"Do you really expect me to just throw  
  
away my whole life and who I am just because  
  
you've got a stupid crush?!"  
  
"If this is just a crush then I don't know if I could take the real  
  
thing if it ever happened." Jarod said quietly as he looked away. He felt like his chest was going to cave in on him. He suddenly rose from the porch swing, his gaze solemn and suddenly cold.  
  
"Goodnight Marianne."  
  
The frankness of his words stung Marianne. Before she could say another word, Jarod walked back into the house. Hearing him slam the door would have strangely been more satisfying, but Jarod was above that. How could she expect him to humor her now? She could feel her heart collapsing as she heard the soft click of the door shutting and his footsteps becoming more and more faint.  
  
The wind had picked up, it had shredded the gardenia bushes in it's  
  
wake. Petals were falling everywhere. The wind chimes were singing.  
  
Somewhere, Marianne could hear someone crying. The wind stung her  
  
face as the tears fell. 


	5. Powerless

Powerless  
  
It was two in the morning and Sydney was on his sofa.existing somewhere between sleep and awareness. The events of the past few days had only serve to trouble him. He hadn't heard from Miss Parker in two days. Raines was irate, wheezing up and down every hallway of the centre, cracking skulls as best he could. Lyle was nowhere to be found. Sydney, aware of Miss Parker's probable trip had prompted him to go to her home to say goodbye. Instead he found an empty house, lights ablaze...nothing was taken, not an item disturbed, her car was parked in the driveway, her Gucci purse and her keys were on the kitchen counter. She was gone. Centre goons were already asking questions. Broots, becoming downright panicky over the situation had packed off with his daughter in the middle of the night, where they went...it wasn't safe to tell anyone. He had anticipated Miss Parker's departure, but not like this.  
  
"Come with me Sydney." She had told him.  
  
"Oh darling," Sydney whispered, shaking his head sadly.  
  
"If only I could."  
  
****************************************************  
  
Life seems suddenly sweeter when you awake in a feverish sweat and realize that it was all just a bad dream. Marianne did not have such pleasure. She groaned as her eyes fluttered open, remembering the nightmare, moaning even louder as she remembered last night. Brushing her hair back with sweaty palms, she rolled over, closing her eyes once more. She had seen him in her nightmare. She knew it was him. But she couldn't make out his face, no matter how desperately she tried. It was the boy, the baby brother she never knew. He had been crying out to her and she was powerless to stop whoever was causing his cries. He was in danger. Real danger. She knew the moment she was roused from her dream, her eyes moist with tears. She didn't recognize the hot rush across her face at first. It was shame. A life hung in the balance and here she was, playing lip-lock with wonderboy. How embarrassing. Had her twin been here to see her now, he would have hurt himself, laughing that wicked laugh of his. She had begun to feel a sincere of pang of pity for him, seeing him there, bleeding to death. That was before Ethan had dragged her out the door. It had proven to be a very eventful morning. She didn't remember how she made it upstairs after the kiss. It must have been just minutes after Jarod had left. Marianne closed her eyes and slightly shuddered. Just what was she doing? Genius had turned out to be an amazing kisser. Quickly brushing the swirling thoughts of her mind, she sat up in bed. Her luggage was beside the bed. She reached in and felt for her gun. "Good ol' Ethan" She said to herself with a bitter smile as she realized that her brother had indeed packed guns in her luggage. She swung off the bed and stumbled into the bathroom. She stripped off her clothes and took a glance at the small mirror on the bathroom wall. Her reflection was familiar but not at all pleasing. But it wasn't the smeared mascara or the wrinkles or even her hair.sticking out in every direction. It was the face of a woman who cut her own heart out long ago. Miss Parker sighed. She had to believe that there was more to her life then this. Well she would make things right, wouldn't she. She was done pleasing the wrong people for the wrong reasons. She stumbled into the shower, and sought to cleanse all her sins away.  
  
**************************************** Jarod had tossed and turned the rest of the night, with each passing moment, growing more remorseful about what he had said. He had forced himself to walk up the stairs, willing himself forward and not allowing himself to look back. He supposed that it was pride that pushed him. He felt silly about the advances he had made upon her, yet she had returned his kiss. It made him hopeful.yet confused him even more all the same. A man who is desperately in love with a woman often tortures himself with memory. Jarod was no exception. He replayed the events of the past night, over and over again in his mind, hanging upon on her every word, letting them hurt him further. He would never forget the look on her face just before he took her. " A woman like her is dangerous," Jarod muttered to himself as he walked down the stairs towards the kitchen. She was tender one moment, and lashing out at him in icy rage the next. But could he blame her? For the past six years he had teased her, taunted her, and humiliated her and probably confused the hell out her. It was years before he realized why he had taken so much pleasure in treating her this way. It was just foolish schoolboy behavior. Or perhaps it was because he sought desperately to make her feel anything, even if it wasn't the reaction he was after. Not to mention the fact she had incessantly hunted him, never letting him forget for even a moment just where he really stood with her. He was beneath her. It was always then that she surprised him. The Gardenia perfume that she wore, the fleeting moments of compassion that she had given him. She was still that little girl inside. But how could he break through that icy façade, when she was so intent on holding her own heart for an impossible ransom?  
  
***********************************************  
  
Margaret was tense. So much for a happy breakfast together, she thought to herself as she cleared the dishes. Charles had gone out on a walk. Emily had not yet arrived. Ethan was still in a coma from playing video games with JJ the entire night. Upstairs was the former future of the centre, she had yet to come down. And downstairs in the kitchen, staring blankly into an open refrigerator was what would have made it all possible. She sighed. Jarod had been moping around all morning. It had to be Marianne's unannounced appearance. She had seen her son's reaction, first surprise.sadness, and then something else. She approached her son and gingerly placed her hand on his broad shoulder.  
  
"You look lost." Margaret began, with a rueful smile.  
  
"I'm not anymore." Jarod replied, smiling back as he shut the door.  
  
Margaret sighed. Jarod was indeed her son. His smile could not hide the deep sadness in his eyes. His eyes were so beautiful. Ethan, JJ and her husband all shared those eyes with him.  
  
"She's difficult, isn't she?" Margaret asked her son pointedly.  
  
Jarod tried to look unmoved, but finally settled for a gruff, "Tell me about it."  
  
Margaret laughed. " A woman with demons is no easy task, just ask your father."  
  
********************************************** When you haven't seen your family in years, most of the time, you have plenty to say. Margaret had wanted to wait however, for everyone to arrive so she could begin. Everyone gathered around the room, everyone, except for Marianne. Her absence was felt. They sat in expectant silence for a few moments, unsure of what to do. It was now three in the afternoon. Margaret had assumed that she was tired from her long trip and would not want to be disturbed. She now regretted her assumption. She had not heard a peep and it gave her a bad feeling, one that she could not shake.  
  
"Jarod, go check on Marianne," Margaret said, finally breaking the silence.  
  
Jarod looked at his mother with a sardonic expression on his face. "I'm the last person she wants to see." "Well, then.I'll go with you."  
  
Jarod walked up the stairs with his mother behind him. Once they reached the end of the corridor he knocked on her door and called out, "Marianne?" There was no answer. He placed his hand on the knob and discovered that the door was open. He looked at his mother, hesitant. His mother waved at him to continue. He turned the knob and swung the door open. The room was empty, the bed was made and everything was gone. He turned towards his mother, unable to disguise the anguished look on his face.  
  
"Well how appropriate," He began bitterly, as his hopes had come crashing down.  
  
"She's turned the tables on me again. She runs and I chase."  
  
tbc 


	6. Veritas

For Disclaimer: See Part One  
  
Part 6 Veritas  
  
She was sound asleep in her bed. Her soft waves of hair were cascading across her pillow as she clutched the covers. Broots couldn't help admiring her. His only daughter. She was a pretty little thing, with a reserve of steel. It had been a struggle for them both at the very beginning. And just as things were falling in place for both of them, he had to usher her and himself out of their lives .The situation had grown stranger then fiction at present. Not only had Raines been breathing down his neck, Sydney had seemed all the more further away from him since Parker had mysteriously left. It was time. He had packed himself and Debbie off to a cottage, given to him by colleagues. Chasing Jarod had turned out to be a very dangerous job indeed, but he was dragged into it, often kicking and screaming. He had done things that he had never expected to do, seen things that he had never wanted to see. He had witnessed the darkest dealings of men, and enough goodness to give him hope. That's all he had now, that and a child to protect. He sighed and rubbed his brow. It was just then that there was a sound. First soft and then unmistakable, it was the sound of heels on the stairs. Broots drew a sharp intake of breath. It was too late. No time to shut the door or grab his gun. Not that he'd have the guts to fire one anyway. At the top of the stairs, the figure paused. It was dressed in pair of patent leather stilettos and a leather coat.  
  
"Hello Broots."  
  
Her bright led lips curled into a smile, strawberry blond hair framing unmistakable blue eyes.  
  
"MMM-Miss Parker?!!?"  
  
*************************************  
  
The dark brunette paused as she approached the door. For a split-second, she worried that she had misinterpreted the address and was at the wrong house. She was a classic beauty, long hair that went past her shoulders and doe-like brown eyes. Pretty enough to be in front a camera. She exhaled deeply and tears began to run down her face. The door had already opened, and she realized that she had never been alone. He stood before her, reaching towards her with his arms. She looked deep into his eyes and recognized them as her own. How long did she hear his voice, so desperate to open her eyes but couldn't?  
  
"Jarod." She whispered. She reached to place her hands on top on his, which were now on her wet cheeks.  
  
The last time they had met, he had taken her in after she had been thrown out of four-story building, compliments of a man with a missing thumb. By the time she had gotten back on her feet he was already gone. She had been looking for her family for years only to suddenly be thrust into a situation she had barely understood. Her whole family had been on the run and in efforts to find them she was forced to run herself. She had never been to the Centre, but had heard enough to steer clear away from anyone who was working for them, including the man with missing thumb.  
  
His arms were wrapped tightly around her now. She closed her eyes and whispered:  
  
"I'm so glad we've finally met."  
  
************************************  
  
"Miss Parker.your hair?!" Broots cried out.  
  
"Broots, this is not the time to discuss the hair." Marianne smile grew wider.  
  
Broots was dumbfounded. He opened his mouth to speak but then decided against it.  
  
"Broots?" Marianne was growing impatient.  
  
Broots was so flabbergasted all he could manage was: "You even dyed your eyebrows."  
  
"I need your help."  
  
Before Broots could even answer, Marianne entered the doorway. Her eyes misted over as her thoughts traveled back to the week she watched Broots' daughter. Debbie had driven her insane. She tried to remember what Sydney had told her. They had shared an all too common loss. Debbie had sensed that she had gotten through it and had wanted guidance on just how to get through hers. It was then Marianne had realized that Debbie, on some level, had understood just what she had gone through, more then anyone else.  
  
She turned back to face Broots. With a soft voice, she implored him.  
  
"Help me. Help me find my little brother."  
  
"How did you find this place? And why did you dye your hair? You look like."  
  
Broots covered his mouth. Again without thinking, he had said too much.  
  
Marianne narrowed her eyes.  
  
"Brigette?"  
  
She ran her fingers through her hair and smiled once more.  
  
"That's what I was counting on."  
  
********************************* After Emily was briefed over the day's events, the whole family sat themselves down as Margaret began her story. "You're a prophecy come true, my son." Margaret exhaled deeply. "The catalyst of a race that had long ago been extinct until now." Jarod was glad that he had been sitting down, but he still wasn't sure of what was going to come next. Margaret exhaled once more. "The scrolls prophesized that a boy named Jarod would be the beginning of a new and more powerful race, and whoever attained this boy would rise and gain ultimate power. This boy-" Margaret paused and clutched Jarod's hands once more "would propagate this race with the one whom had the power of the inner sense."  
  
"The inner sense?" Jarod repeated, dumbfounded. He peered at his mother through narrow eyes, incredulous. It only took one look from her to make him suddenly glad that Marianne had left. In his heart, he felt that this was just the beginning of the ironies in his life.  
  
"Do you know why your father and I were so happy to see Marianne?" Margaret asked.  
  
"Both of you knew her mother." Jarod replied quietly.  
  
"Yes I did. Catherine was my best friend. You don't know how I failed her, Jarod.. I swore to her that I would protect her little girl if anything happened to her." Margaret said slowly, as the tears began to run down her face.  
  
"Mom." Jarod began.  
  
"No." Margaret interrupted.  
  
"No it's true. I failed her. I wasn't there when she died. I was already on the run, my eyes wary of a dark suit. It was only years later that I learned that she died trying to save you. It was then I decided that I would try to return the favor. But I was too late. Marianne had been sent off to a fancy boarding school in Europe, out of my reach. By the time I had found her, she was already a woman, so cold and calculating. But I'm getting ahead of myself. In search for her, I stumbled upon the truth, so to speak. The Veritas Project. Not only did I learn why Catherine had begged me to save her daughter from the centre, I also learned why they had taken you from me."  
  
She paused, suddenly seeming tired. Jarod's heart ached for her, he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.  
  
Margaret's eyes had suddenly taken a darker shade of blue. She exhaled slowly, and flatly spoke.  
  
"The Veritas Project was launched in 1960, to ensure that the will of the prophecy would be carried out."  
  
Jarod raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"  
  
"Marianne was the first girl you ever laid eyes on, right?" Margaret asked with a bitter smile.  
  
Jarod nodded, unsure of where her question was headed.  
  
"They made sure that she would be the last girl you would ever love."  
  
*****************************************  
  
"Go back to the centre? What are you, nuts? You might as well ask me to commit suicide."  
  
Broots was for once, indignant. He had just escaped out of harms way, only to be asked to dive into the fire once more.  
  
"I'm not asking you to go back there, I'm asking you to get me back in there. There's a difference." Miss Parker quipped, trying to make light of the situation. She knew exactly just what she was asking of him, but she had no other choice.  
  
"But why Miss Parker? Why risk everything for someone that you don't know whether he is alive or worse.if he's been turned into a vegetable."  
  
"He's alive." Marianne replied, with conviction.  
  
"And he's the only family I have left." She said sadly, as she smoothed her skirt.  
  
Broots recognized the look in her eyes. He knew that he couldn't say no once she gave him that face. He was such a pushover, and she was so beautiful, so powerful, could he ever deny her anything? ***************************************  
  
"You mean to tell me.that what I feel for Marianne is a sham?!" Jarod had already risen off the couch, all color drained from his finely chiseled features, in obvious shock.  
  
"No my son, your feelings might have been engineered, but it doesn't make what you feel for her ."  
  
Margaret paused, stood up and placed her hand over Jarod's heart.  
  
"Any less genuine."  
  
The look that Jarod gave her then was one that would have broken any mother's heart. She didn't like that what she was saying was hurting him. But he had searched and he had waited for so long, just these hear these words, to know the truth. The truth was that he was better off not knowing.  
  
"What about her?" Jarod asked suddenly, his voice gruff.  
  
"What?" Margaret asked, the look of worry never leaving her face.  
  
"What they put in me..did they put feelings for me...in her?" "I don't know." Margaret replied frankly, casting a look of concern towards her son.  
  
"The truth is.I wasn't the only one that had trouble conceiving you, Catherine Parker had trouble conceiving as well."  
  
"Nugenesis." Jarod said, as he sank down into a nearby chair. "You were both at Nugenesis at the same time."  
  
"No." Margaret said. "Catherine came to Nugenesis several years afterwards. By then they had their pretender. They just needed a suitable child with the right bloodlines. Once Marianne was born,"  
  
"They took me from you." Jarod finished, as he put his face in his hands.  
  
What else could someone feel at this moment who has felt ultimate betrayal, but the most poisonous form of rage. Jarod could barely breathe. He struggled to compose himself in his mother's presence.  
  
Margaret was hesistant. This was already too much for her son to take but there was more. There was no time to waste.  
  
"However obvious this may sound, your escape threw their carefully laid plans into upheaval."  
  
Jarod snorted in reply but his hands had not once left his face.  
  
"The Veritas Project came to an untimely end, or so I thought."  
  
Jarod lifted his face from his hands slowly, his brown eyes flashing.  
  
His mother's eyes were rimmed with red. She had been holding her breath. She was trying to steady herself, gripping the arms of the chair.  
  
"Three years ago, the objectives of the project changed, and a new test subject was brought in."  
  
Jarod approached his mother and took her by the shoulders.  
  
"Tell me mother, who is Veritas exactly?" Jarod demanded. He was wild-eyed, completely unaware of the shaky tone of his voice.  
  
"Deep within the bowels of the centre, a child is being held prisoner by Dr. Raines. Find him Jarod, and you will find Veritas."  
  
******************************* tbc 


	7. Flicker

Part 7  
  
Author's Note: This is the first of two very long parts of the series, consequently this part took me forever to revise and therefore the next one will take forever as well.  
  
Part 7 Flicker  
  
Wearing three-inch heels can make your legs look incredibly sexy but they're murder for your feet. Marianne decided that she could no longer be a slave to fashion decided to be practical. Practical and nice were two very new words in Marianne's vocabulary. And she was shocked to learn that without heels, she was the exact same height as Broots. She wasn't the only one in shock, so was Broots. He had watched in awe as she tried her very first hamburger, and could hardly keep from bursting into peals of laughter as he had watched her wipe her tongue with her napkin. It was priceless, watching, the very look on her face, trying to keep dignified as she spit the contents out onto her tray. She threatened him then, in that murderous low voice of hers, something about "a head" rolling off. Marianne had somehow changed, while managing to maintain her black little heart in place.  
  
It had taken a day or so, but Broots had worked his usual magic. He had tracked down the very room that Baby Parker was supposedly being held, though just what they were doing to him and why had proved elusive.  
  
"You don't know just what condition you'll find your brother in." Broots had begun carefully.  
  
"Are you sure that you really want to do this?"  
  
Marianne's eyes had flashed angrily, understanding just where he was coming from, but irritated by his concern all the same.  
  
"Of course." She snapped as she flung the blueprints that she had been studying back at him. She could feel a migraine coming on, and she was in no mood to deal with the inevitable pounding at the back of her head.  
  
"Just worry about what condition you'll be in if you don't shut up."  
  
***********************************  
  
Sydney stood near his window, watching the wind pick up. It had been even lonelier now that his twisted little family had gone. All he knew that Raines and the sweepers had yet to find them.despite their efforts to shake the information out of him as best as they could. The truth was .he knew very little. The prospect of not knowing was eating his insides. He had desperately wanted help.Broots was so terrified he had jumped ship and Miss Parker.a shell of a woman in so much despair..  
  
When the cell phone vibrated against the table, Sydney instantly knew who it was. It had been slipped into his pocket while he was at the market. utterly Jarod's style. Sydney leaned over the table and snapped the phone open.  
  
"This is Sydney." He began in his smooth voice, waiting for a reply.  
  
"Tell me everything you know about Project Veritas." Jarod began solemnly.  
  
Sydney frowned as a flicker of memory passed along his face.  
  
"Never heard of it." He replied firmly, as he sank into a nearby leather chair.  
  
There was silence on the other end of the line.  
  
"Jarod?" Sydney asked, "Are you still there?"  
  
"I'm here." Jarod finally replied, sighing.  
  
"What's wrong, Jarod? You sound worried." Sydney said suddenly, unable to mask his concern.  
  
"There's a little boy being held in the centre as we speak. I don't know why or what. All I know is that he is tied with a project called Veritas and that I don't have much time. This is important Sydney. Help me find him."  
  
As usual, Jarod didn't give Sydney a chance to reply. The very mention of Veritas had made Sydney's blood run cold. The dial tone rang loudly in his ear before he let go of the cell phone, letting it fall to the ground.  
  
********************************************  
  
She stared blankly at her gun, feeling the cold metal in her hand. This one had a pearl handle, one that she never used, and had always saved for a desperate occasion such as this. She had assumed the day would never come. The secret passageway had allowed her access to her home, unbeknownst to the centre parasites that now guarded it, as if it had never belonged to her, like it didn't belong to her still. She had quickly undressed as she pulled a leather bag off a nearby shelf. Black combat boots, black turtleneck and tight black pants, just the way she liked to dress. She was suddenly reminded of the hot summer she had spent in Japan. Her lover then had taught her how to shoot. With his arms wrapped taut around her waist, holding her upright as she had unloaded her gun again and again, the impact pushing her back.  
  
"You will never be afraid again." He had whispered to her, tenderly brushing the blood away from her lip. She hadn't realized that she had bit down so hard. Things had seemed far simpler then, her whole life ahead of her. She could of chosen to do whatever she had damn well pleased. It was funny that she had returned to the very same place where her mother had been taken from her. She had sworn she would never return to that place so long as she lived. A sound in the next room made Marianne snap out of her thoughts and far too soon. Before she reached the door, it had swung open, and her attacker had already ambushed her, wrapping one arm around her neck and with his free hand, pulling down on her hair.  
  
"So nice to see you, Miss Parker."  
  
She did not recognize the cruel voice. She could smell the stench of his breath, laced with the malt liquor she had kept in the kitchen.  
  
"Love what you did with the hair."  
  
"Glad you like it." Marianne replied, as she slammed her head back, making contact with her attacker. She broke free and quickly spun around and deftly kicked the assailant in the neck. A low guttural sound escaped his lips as he sank to the ground. Marianne picked up his gun and noticed that that she had broken a nail.  
  
" I hate it when that happens." She muttered as she tucked the gun into her belt.  
  
She took off down the hallway and didn't have to wait long for another confrontation. She almost slammed into another oncoming sweeper. This one was smaller.with a nasty smile. He held up his gun and pointed it towards her. "Is that all you got?" Marianne asked, as she kicked the gun out of his hand. He rushed her, but Marianne was waiting for him. She cold cocked him hard. But the sweeper was not to be outdone. He was going down and he was taking her with him. Using his body weight, he knocked Marianne to the ground . and wasted no time in wrapping his hands firmly around her neck. A struggle ensued. Marianne was gasping for air and growing desperate, she didn't want to do this, and it wasn't ladylike. It took another three seconds to change her mind. She head butted him with all her might. It had caught him off guard for just a moment but that was all that she needed. She was back in control and brutally bashed the sweeper's head into the wall. Finally, after what had seemed like an eternity.she lifted herself off of him and reached over for her gun.  
  
"Only two of you?" She said aloud, laughing bitterly as she straightened herself.  
  
"You would think that the former head of security would warrant more."  
  
She caught sight of herself in the mirror that hanging in the hallway. She lifted her fingers up to her face to touch the bruise that was forming on her cheek. She frowned and kicked her attacker once more, for good measure.  
  
******************** Broots was close to panicking as he drummed his fingers along the steering wheel, wondering what was taking her so long for the millionth time. So much could go wrong. And having Debbie with them, there was so much more at stake. Why did I have to give in to Miss Parker? He wondered. She was gorgeous yes, but he couldn't help feeling like a pawn. He rubbed his balding head and wondered whether a beautiful woman was worth risking all the hair he had left. It was only a sudden distant roar that ripped Broots away from his worrisome thoughts. Broots instinctively sank lower into his seat, not realizing who was fast approaching on a motorcycle. The figure now stood next to the car, rapping on the window. She lifted her helmet and brushed her short blonde hair back away from her face. Icy blue eyes and a bruised cheek. "Broots!" She screamed.  
  
"Today would be nice!"  
  
Broots snapped to attention and started the car as Debbie stifled a small laugh.  
  
"Does she always talk to you like that, daddy?" She asked.  
  
Broots was too busy getting the car in gear to answer. Marianne was already down the road.  
  
****************************************  
  
It was a scent in the air that forced him to remember. It was a chapter in his life that he would have rather forgotten. He had convinced himself to be content with letting the rest of his years fade away with her, but that was before he heard that the old chairman had finally returned.  
  
It was in her bed and in her arms that he let down his guard. He thought that she would understand; it had to be more then just an infatuation, more then just amazing sex. He was wrong.  
  
"How can you love someone who hates you?!" He remembered Zoe screaming the night that he had packed his bags and left. He never looked back. He had cared for her deeply and was saddened by the fact that a man so scarred by his past was more then she could handle. She was jealous and he told her that she was being silly but she had every right to be. She had seen right through him, which was more then he ever gave her credit for. He was in love with the chairman's daughter. He wasn't being fair to her, wasn't being fair to himself. The truth was that his heart wasn't really his for giving; it already belonged to someone else.  
  
He had wanted to see it for himself. He could never truly believe that the old man was dead until he saw his very grave. He had washed up on the shores of France. How could he not expect to see her again, the chairman's daughter, the one who's very existence he was so desperate to ignore. In his brashness he had gambled and he had lost. There was nothing more then pick up the pieces of his shattered life and move on. That was what he had expected, but he was an enigma, leading an enigmatic life. He was now on his way, playing the hero once more, but with the sinking feeling that this would be no ordinary rescue. ***************************************************  
  
She held her breath, the palms of her hands laying flat against the wall that she was leaning on. She had to drive six hours, scale two fences and repel down an elevator shaft some hundred feet down just to get here. It was all in a day's work. She was exhausted and she didn't have the clearance to move any further.  
  
"Ready." Came Broots distant voice through Marianne's earpiece. She officially had ten minutes to find her brother and get him out of there.  
  
She extracted an old security card from her pocket. It had been Brigette's old security card and it was now activated. She slipped it into the appropriate slot at the door, and marveled silently as the green light flashed and the door swung open.  
  
"Remind me to be nicer to you Broots" Marianne whispered, adjusting her earpiece as she slipped past through the door. What greeted her was a dark and low corridor. For a moment she stood in disbelief. She was unbelievably close.  
  
She slowed as she reached her destination, taking in the view of the black and heavy door that separated her from him. She swung the door open, cursing under her breath as she went.  
  
She knew that it was him the moment she saw him. It was unmistakable, dark brown hair closely cropped; he was dressed in simple official centre garb. Three years old and it was already apparent that he had been heavily drugged. His body rested on a small bed, eyes closed. Standing over him was Raines.  
  
The old ghoul smiled as his eyes rested on her, wheezing slightly as he approached her.  
  
Marianne was in disbelief. She couldn't fathom for a moment just what lay before her. Her hands shook as she pulled out her gun and raised it towards him.  
  
"Just what hell have you done?" She hissed, as she tried to steady herself.  
  
His thin lips broke into a smile once more. After a pause he answered dully.  
  
"Nothing."  
  
Marianne ignored him. She was already ripping plugs of the boy's body, scooping him up into her arms. Raines lurched forward, his voice taking an uglier tone.  
  
"It would be wise if you forget about the boy and come with me." He grabbed her wrist with surprising strength.  
  
"I am your father, Miss Parker," he continued, spitting out his words as if they disgusted him. "Whether you like it or not, a father knows what's best for his daughter."  
  
Her heart pounding in her chest, Marianne suddenly became aware of another. It was her brother's steady yet faint heart, beating against her own.  
  
"I refused to believe that I've come from something as despicable as you." She began, her voice suddenly calm, shaking her wrist free.  
  
"I'm not going anywhere with you."  
  
"Don't make me use force on my own daughter, Miss Parker." Raines laughed what was considered a laugh for him. It was a shallow passage of air that crackled as it passed his lips.  
  
"With him?" Marianne began, as she motioned towards her brother. She aimed her gun at gun at Raines as she slowly backed away towards the door.  
  
"You wouldn't dare."  
  
She had just rushed out of the room in time to catch a glimpse of the sweepers in the hallway. With one arm wrapped tightly around her brother, she unloaded her gun, one, two, three times. She didn't wait to see what damage she had done. She dove towards the opening doors of a nearby elevator on her back, thudding her head against the wall. She saw the gun before she saw the sweeper holding it. Instinctively, she let off another pop. She heard the impact of the whizzing metal ripping through flesh, and the screams as the elevator doors closed. Gasping for air, she clutched her brother in her arms.  
  
"Mama." He whispered weakly, his eyes remaining closed.  
  
Marianne was relieved that he could speak.  
  
"No sweetie, I'm not your mama. I'm your sister."  
  
The boy made no reply. Marianne sighed.  
  
"Broots." She whispered. "Get me out of here."  
  
Marianne had already reached the woods before she had even come close to figuring out what to do. This wasn't part of the plan, only a desperate attempt to buy time. She could feel sweat running down her face as she heaved, the child hoisted on her hip, as she dragged herself along. She could hear the shouting and the sounds of alarm. It wouldn't be long before they would find her here, and she would just have to make sure that didn't happen. That was why the old Flemish man had been a sight for sore eyes.  
  
"Sydney!" Marianne cried aloud, using the last bit of her strength to catch up to the figure walking along the dirt path.  
  
Sydney paused and turned. He could barely hide his astonishment as he rushed towards her.  
  
"Veritas. You found him." He cried.  
  
Marianne never had the chance to respond, or to question. There was a searing pain in her back, lowering her to her knees as the expression in her eyes became frantic.  
  
"Take the boy." She gasped, her free hand already searching for her wound. She let out a moan as she raised her bloodied hand to her eyes.  
  
"Sydney. Take the boy. I've been shot." She demanded, more urgent then before.  
  
"I can't leave you like this." Sydney's voice was becoming distant.  
  
She felt a weight being taken off of her. Sydney was walking away with her brother. All of a sudden the child's eyes fluttered open, his gaze steadfast on hers. They were distinctly blue. Those are my eyes, Marianne thought. Why does that boy have my eyes? She asked herself, but she could no longer think, she was clouding over.  
  
"Oh God." She whispered, her mind swimming.  
  
"Run."  
  
Tbc 


	8. Baby Blues

Part 8 Baby Blues  
  
Author's Note: It's taken a short time to for me to revise this despite my school and work schedule and I'd really like some specific feedback about my series. I've revised but I haven't really changed much of my story, but I would still like to know, is it better then the first?  
  
I've included so many characters in this story and the last chapter was so huge, I thought I would allow some downtime and deal with the different points of view of other characters directly involved. Hope you enjoy my probing of their minds!  
  
Broots was frantic. He had hung onto every word that been exchanged between Miss Parker and Raines. He had been careful to be silent, too afraid to say a word, with one hand clasped over his daughter's mouth, and the other hand flying across the keyboard. He felt ashamed as he sat in his mid-size sedan. He felt like he was violating her trust, being an unwilling witness to Miss Parker's own personal destruction. Looking into his own daughter's eyes he instantly regretted bringing her along. Tears clung to her eyelashes, as she bit her bottom lip. She tried to look brave as his gaze met hers, but the woeful look in her eyes betrayed her. Broots tried his best to reassure his daughter with a smile but he wasn't fooling her. How could he, Debbie was wise beyond her years, uprooted from her own childhood in very much the same way that Miss Parker had been.  
  
Suffering a loss no child should ever have to endure.  
  
Broots knew that Miss Parker had been headed to the woods, and he would be of no use to her once she got there. He couldn't leave the refuge of the car, even if he could, what would he do to save her now?  
  
"Broots." He could hear her strangled voice, her breathing growing heavier.  
  
"Get me out of here."  
  
His hands shaking and his head resting on the steering wheel, Broots muttered in frustration.  
  
"If only I could."  
  
The heavy silence was interrupted by Debbie's scream. There was a loud knock on the window. It was Jarod, looking strangely haggard, with dark circles under his eyes. He was leaning over the car window with his usual intense stare. Broots shut the laptop quickly, so quickly that he ended up smashing one of his fingers.  
  
"Where is she?" Broots could hear the question faintly through the glass. He hurriedly rolled down the window.  
  
"J-Jarod, s-she's i-in." Broots stammered. His hands had already flown up to protect his face. His finger hurt like hell and Jarod looked like he was going to unravel on him at any minute.  
  
"WHERE IS SHE? I NEED TO KNOW NOW."  
  
"The woods." Broots finally managed out meekly.  
  
Jarod's face became twisted with fear, but it was only brief.  
  
"Get out."  
  
"W-what?"  
  
"Get yourself and Debbie out of here.now."  
  
With that said, Jarod broke into a run, heading directly towards the woods. Broots and Debbie looked after but only for a moment. A father needed no more encouragement to steer his daughter away from danger. For the first time in his life, Broots sped down the road in reckless abandon.  
  
**************************************** Sydney had hoped that the name "Veritas" would never be mentioned again. He wasn't so lucky. He had rushed into his office that very night, searching the centre mainframe, but to no avail. All trace of Veritas had been wiped away, save for his very own memory. He had first heard this project being mentioned by none other then Catherine Parker herself. Then Father Giuseppe mentioned it to Catherine's daughter. Any project tied with Raines was one of up to no good. His former colleague and former friend had spent the latter half of his years exploiting little boys. He had tortured Jarod, robbing him of precious memories, stolen Ethan, better known as Mirage to centre operatives, isolating him and duping him into attempting to bomb a hotel full of dignitaries. Kyle has suffered unspeakable abuse under his care. By the time Kyle had escaped, his mind didn't know right from wrong or up from down. Raines was capable of, and had done far worse. He knew just who the little boy was being held prisoner by Raines. Just imagining what was possible was enough to make his stomach turn.  
  
He could only wish that he hadn't been such a lousy shot.  
  
But that was just the tip of the iceberg. He didn't know just what the Veritas Project entailed, save for it's mission. And that was to ensure the prophecy of the scrolls. That prophecy, whatever it was, scared him to death.  
  
He was relieved when the alarm system went off. He had rushed outside, in anticipation of seeing Miss Parker again. He had been sick in worry, not having heard from her in such a long time.  
  
But he didn't expect to see Veritas hoisted on her very hip.  
  
She looked so beautiful, in obvious agitation, newly dyed hair cascading around her face. The words had already spilled out of his mouth before he had a chance to think clearly, but she never had the chance to respond. Maybe she didn't hear the soft pop, but he did. And he would never forget the look in her eyes as she fell to the ground.  
  
She had begged him to take boy then, she had demanded it. How could he leave her, he loved her, how could he save her? But the swarm was on the way. He could see them now, eyes fixed on him, guns waving in the air.  
  
"Run." She whispered, her eyes rolling back into her skull.  
  
He was already on his way.  
  
********************************************  
  
Just the very thought of Miss Parker traipsing around the woods in heels brought a smile to Jarod' face. But it didn't last very long. His chest tightened as he ran, and he sure that it just wasn't because he was simply tired. He had a feeling.  
  
And that feeling was telling his heart and his mind to run like he never had before.  
  
He hadn't expected her with blonde hair, but he liked the way it softened her features. He had just stopped to take a needed rest, leaning against a tree. She was some thirty yards away, a small child on her hip, as she talked to Sydney.  
  
"Could this be the child whom I've come for?" Jarod asked aloud, as he began to walk towards them.  
  
The moment was too brief. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the barrel of a silencer rise up. He was too late. And he watched the woman of his dreams crumple to the ground. Sydney already had the boy in his arms. Were it not for strong arms that held him back, Jarod would have already been at her side. He would of moved heaven and earth just to be at her side.  
  
"You were supposed to wait for my call." Jarod cried, struggling to loosen his brother's unwavering grip.  
  
Ethan held steady, which was impressive for a man of his size. Jarod was stronger, bigger and out of control.  
  
"Let me go!" Jarod snarled, still struggling to free himself.  
  
Ethan grabbed his brother's face and pulled it down towards him.  
  
"Don't ruin the only chance we have to save her by getting yourself captured."  
  
Ethan loosened his grip. Jarod slumped against the tree. He struck at it, as he cried out once more in pain and frustration. His brother was right.  
  
"Let's get Sydney and the boy out of here."  
  
Jarod glanced over, wincing as he watched the swarm of black suits already upon her. They were already carrying her off. Ethan pulled on his shoulder. Jarod relented and started to back away from the tree.  
  
"Trust me Jarod. She'll be ok."  
  
"How do you know? How do you know that she'll even live? "  
  
"She has someone to live for."  
  
********************************************  
  
The boy had awoken once everyone had gotten into the car. Jarod was sitting in the passenger side, stealing a selfish glance into the back. Sydney had the boy seated in his lap, and the child's eyes were completely transfixed upon Jarod. Jarod could not ignore the intensity of the child's stare realizing with each passing moment just how familiar these child's eyes were. He saw himself in their reflection and was absolutely haunted by what else he saw.  
  
He had Marianne's eyes.  
  
*********************************  
  
She could only hear voices at first. Then she started to feel pain. She tried to move her arms. Tied down.  
  
Is this hell?  
  
Marianne did not have to wait long before her question was answered. Her eyes jerked open, just in time to realize that she was being wheeled down to the very last place she'd ever thought she'd end up.  
  
The centre renewal wing.  
  
tbc So is it better? Let me know! 


	9. Revelations

Disclaimer: See Part One  
  
Part 9 Revelations  
  
As Marianne's eyes flittered open, a cold room of steel greeted her. She was shackled against one of the very walls, her arms hanging uselessly above her head. She struggled to look down, wondering if she was naked. She was so very cold. She could barely turn her head, wincing in pain as she attempted to take in her surroundings. The machines that kept her company were humming along, lights blinking and hundreds of wires leading from them, all connected to her body. They covered her arms and legs and her stomach, they were strapped to her head, shading her face like strands of hair.  
  
She wondered if she was dreaming.  
  
She couldn't tell just what they were doing to her. Were they sucking the life out of her or simply keeping her alive? She had never seen this room before, she had never known it's existence. She struggled to remember the events of what had brought her here in the first place. Was her brother that important to them, to warrant this?  
  
Whatever she had done, she must have been a very.very bad girl.  
  
The clicking of heels of was what she heard first. Finally the figure came close, eyes crinkled and a smile as wide the Cheshire cat's. Brigette, her dead stepmother, was standing not a foot away.  
  
She had to be dreaming.  
  
"That's a very nice look on you love." Brigette cooed in a thick English accent, as she stroked Marianne's hair.  
  
Marianne turned away in disbelief. She thrashed against her shackles, unsettled and in growing panic. Her mind began to cloud over, fighting her reasoning at every turn.  
  
This is it, Marianne thought. I have gone crazy.  
  
"Oh, no what a nasty spill you took, love." Brigette observed as the back of her hand brushed the bruise on Marianne's cheek.  
  
Brigette's touch felt alien against Marianne's skin. Marianne thrashed again, attempting to speak but only able to utter a soft moan.  
  
"What's wrong love? Cat got your tongue?" Brigette laughed, as she carefully unwrapped a cherry lollipop and stuck it in her mouth. She began to back away, before turning around and leaving the room, humming.  
  
Marianne did not have enough time to register what had happened. The blackness had risen yet again. She slipped back into the void. ************************  
  
Jarod had never meant to torture Marianne with her past. In search for his, he kept stumbling into hers, family secrets, lies and everything else in between. He felt obligated to push her, challenge her to question, because she had no idea just how much blood she had on her hands. Within in the very first year of escaping from the centre, he had convinced himself that he had never loved her, that in fact, he hated her.  
  
But she bewitched him.  
  
They were cut from the very same cloth, Marianne and him. Both enslaved by the centre, but in different ways, ultimately, they felt each other's pain. She knew everything about him and he knew everything about her. It made him wonder whether he could go through the rest of his life without ever stumbling into her again. That didn't seem possible now. The binds that tied them together had grown, more inclusive with passing time.  
  
The thought of losing her was more then he could bear. It was his ultimate failure, leaving her there, at the mercy of the centre. He was alone in this world, forever scarred by his experiences, different from everybody else. But he was lonelier still, without her. He needed her, because she was the only one who understood him.  
  
Had his feelings never been engineered, he would have loved her still, for that simple fact.  
  
The rest of the family was trying hard to make the youngest one in the household very comfortable. He had yet to speak.and was very shy amongst the majority. He had warmed up however to Margaret, who had taken him clothes shopping and had come back with the car loaded to the top with packages much to Charles' dismay. But Margaret could not be denied. Having lost her own children so early, she reveled in an opportunity to care for another. Whatever progress Margaret had made, it wasn't enough to tempt the child to speak.  
  
Jarod had been so reclusive for the past few days and the boy being so timid, Margaret almost dropped a pitcher of orange juice in shock as she watched her son walk into the kitchen one morning carrying the child in his arms.  
  
They looked picture perfect, Jarod and the little boy. Jarod was laughing, trying to keep the child from sticking his fingers in his mouth.  
  
"Do you know how much I've longed to see you that way?" Margaret said, tears forming in her eyes.  
  
Jarod paused and didn't know what to say. This wasn't his child.  
  
Just what in the hell did she mean?  
  
Feeling uncomfortable, Jarod set the child down. The child ran off running into the living room, blowing raspberries, unaware. Ignoring his mother's gaze, he sat at the kitchen table and started to eat, he was hungry, so hungry that when he started shoveling food in his mouth, he had failed to realize that Sydney was sitting across from him, observing him as always. He paused and looked at him, not knowing what to say.  
  
"I'm sorry Jarod." Sydney said, as he grasped Jarod's hand, giving him a sympathetic look.  
  
Jarod moved his hand away and averted his gaze. He began to smile then decided against it. It was useless to hide from the very man who had created him.  
  
"Tell me the truth. Tell me what you're thinking, Jarod." Sydney said quietly.  
  
"The truth is that I can't live with myself knowing that she's back there, suffering god knows what."  
  
"She's valuable, Jarod." Sydney observed, placing his chin in one hand.  
  
"She has something that they want."  
  
"Why is everyone so unconcerned? This is the centre we're talking about!!!" Jarod tossed his fork on the plate in frustration.  
  
"You think I don't know that?" Sydney hissed, moving forward in his chair.  
  
"I couldn't help her mother. And I couldn't help her. You think I'm sleeping at night?"  
  
************************************** Marianne opened her eyes. She was in a different room now and she was no longer shackled to a wall. The wires had disappeared. She was sitting in a chair and .damn. Shackled to the chair. She wasn't alone again. She lifted her head and her gaze met her brother's.  
  
His blue eyes looked so very cold, and so much like her very own.  
  
Lyle had managed to come back from the dead yet again. How appropriate.  
  
"Well so much for rotting here in peace." Marianne said, suddenly aware that she could finally speak.  
  
"Does anyone die in this place anymore?" She continued in an exasperated tone.  
  
Lyle laughed. "Still have the sense of humor. Pity. No means for reeducating that."  
  
"What do you want?" Marianne snapped, feeling the familiar and satisfying feeling of anger rising once more in her throat.  
  
Lyle ignored her question. "Do you know why you're here?"  
  
"Spare me the explanation, you put me here, you twit."  
  
"For someone who's twisted my thumb for the truth, I'd have to say I'm rather disappointed." Lyle quipped with a smile.  
  
"What does it matter that I should know now?" Marianne replied angrily. She struggled against her shackles knowing full well that they weren't going to give.  
  
"You know there's a difference between you and me."  
  
Marianne glared. "I'll take that as a compliment."  
  
"You were wanted. I was just a spare." Lyle countered.  
  
"What the hell are you talking about?"  
  
"Oh, so now I have your attention." Lyle smiled and leaned forward close towards his sister.  
  
Marianne could not keep the bile from rising to her throat, shivering slightly as she struggled against her handcuffs once more.  
  
"I maybe shackled here at your mercy, but please.some personal space."  
  
Lyle's smiled grew wider as he drew even closer towards Marianne, who had leaned back into her chair as far she could.  
  
"I don't want you, my dearest sister, to miss a word."  
  
Great, Marianne thought inwardly. Not only am I trapped; I have brother dearest here, violating my space.  
  
"Do you know who you were meant for Marianne? Created for? Do you really want to know?"  
  
"Do I have a choice?" Marianne spat out, trying her best to keep composed. She didn't like where this was heading.  
  
"Our parents loved their darling baby girl. She was special. You have no idea how special you are, Marianne."  
  
Marianne gritted her teeth. She had always disliked her name. But what she disliked most was when people she disliked used her name.  
  
She managed the nastiest smile she could. "How special?" She demanded, her every word dripping with sarcasm.  
  
" You're the means for starting the next human race, Marianne. And a superior one, no less. According to those scrolls, the ones that you had so thoughtfully conjured up for us last winter, you're going to be mother of the next evolution."  
  
Marianne was in disbelief, she chuckled a little as she cocked head to the side.  
  
"Did Ethan knock a screw out when he wiped the floor with your sorry ass? You, out of all people should know that I am not the mommy kind."  
  
Lyle rolled his eyes. And I was the spare, he thought to himself.  
  
"You're one of the eight children, Marianne. You have the inner sense. Don't tell me that you don't already know who's destined to make a mother out of you."  
  
The sick feeling that started at the pit of her stomach suddenly overcame Marianne, the blood drained out of her face as her jaw fell open.  
  
"Yes, Marianne." Lyle declared, beaming. "Jarod. The very one you've been pursuing all these years."  
  
"You lie." Marianne countered slowly, her expression hard and cruel, quickly recovering from shock.  
  
Lyle snickered. He crossed his arms and cocked his head.  
  
"I have no reason to lie to you, dearest sister."  
  
"Well that will never happen now will it?" Marianne snapped.  
  
"I'm here and Jarod's out there. If I couldn't have caught him, much less could you."  
  
"Too late." Lyle said, raising an eyebrow. "It already has."  
  
Marianne rocked forward and sank her head. She couldn't reply. She had no means to convey what she felt at that very moment.  
  
"You would never willingly carry Jarod's child." Lyle paused and grinned. "Much less anyone else's."  
  
He liked his sister better when she was quiet. She looked even prettier too, with that blonde hair of hers.  
  
"That child? The one you think is our little half-brother? It's really yours, made up with the necessary elements, extracted from both you and Jarod and implanted into Brigette."  
  
For the first time, Marianne did not have an insult to hurl at her brother or even a smart response. What was last of what she knew to be true was shattered. She had nothing left and yet everything to live for. She had a son.  
  
"Our mother's duty was Mirage. You were created for that very same fate."  
  
Lyle said calmly, as he stood over her.  
  
Marianne's cheeks were streamed with tears, yet her expression remained hardened.  
  
"What's your part Lyle?" She began coldly.  
  
"What's your part now, in this twisted little puzzle that we're in?"  
  
Lyle's eyes seemed to soften as he held his sister's gaze. He seemed almost sympathetic, even compassionate. His expression remained serene even as he withdrew a small syringe from his coat pocket.  
  
"My part now sis, is to make sure that your destiny is fulfilled."  
  
***************************** 


	10. Precious Days

Part 10 Precious Days  
  
"The process is complete, Mr. Lyle."  
  
"How is she? "  
  
"The process took longer then expected, but it was successful."  
  
"Is she scrambled like an egg?"  
  
"See for yourself."  
  
Lyle pushed the double glass doors open, and gazed intently on the figure in the room. He motioned for the sweeper to take his leave.  
  
Had only things not have to be this way.  
  
Had she never been his sister.  
  
Marianne's dark roots were growing out now, leaving with her with an unkempt appearance. She remained beautiful still, sitting on the edge of the bed, with perfect posture. Her blue eyes seemed so serene, so without guile, they betrayed nothing of the woman that she once was. Lyle smiled and approached his sister, finally settling himself next to her on the bed. He was fully satisfied with what he saw. No more chasing Jarod. No more seeking the truth. No more anger, no more pain. His sister was finally at peace.  
  
"Marianne," Lyle began tenderly, running his fingers through her hair. Marianne shifted her eyes towards him, yet her stare remained blank.  
  
"Do you know how much I love you, dearest sister? I'm going to take good care of you." Lyle whispered, gazing intently into his sister's eyes, searching for a glimmer of life.  
  
"Yes." Marianne suddenly replied, as she grasped her brother's hand gently, she met his gaze, but her eyes remained out of focus.  
  
"We're going to change the world, Marianne, you and me. We don't need Jarod anymore, do we?"  
  
She smiled weakly as her fingers grasped her brother's hand even tighter.  
  
"Jarod who?" ********************  
  
He had offered her salvation a thousand times. And as pigheaded as Marianne was, she refused every single time. He hoped that she wouldn't this time.  
  
Jarod had to save her. Yet, he never expected that his resolve would put him at odds with his very own family. His sister Emily had been furious. She had burst into his room, backing him into a corner.  
  
The hurt in her beautiful brown eyes had been obvious. Her lips trembled as she spoke, as she admonished him. Jarod was caught between a rock and hard place, stuck between the will of woman that he loved, and another that he could not possibly deny. He sat in a chair overwhelmed more and more as his sister spoke.  
  
"How could you?" She whispered fervently. Emily had her reasons. Emily thought of Marianne as nothing more then a centre parasite. Besides, Zoey had been her best friend.  
  
"How can you go and risk everything for a woman who has done nothing but hurt you!?"  
  
Just where had he heard this before?  
  
"You don't know her like I do, Em." Jarod pleaded.  
  
"Do I have to? Why do you do this to yourself Jarod? Just what makes her important enough to risk your very own family for?"  
  
Something inside Jarod snapped. The past days had been wearisome at best and now this. He not only had to justify his actions to himself but to HER as well. His sister knew nothing of his tortured past.  
  
"She IS family." Jarod countered as he rose from his chair.  
  
"She knows me better then you do." He continued icily as he drew nearer to his sister.  
  
He motioned a shaking finger behind towards the closed door as he spoke, his mind teetering towards desperation.  
  
"There's a boy out there who happens to her brother. He has no one else but her. She risked her life to get him out. She is Ethan's sister. And I'll be damned if I leave her there to die."  
  
Emily had heard enough. Tears streamed down her cheeks, as her will failed her. There was nothing she could do, nothing she could say. Nothing to convince him that just what he was contemplating; was suicide.  
  
"It's good to know just where I stand with you Jarod." She whispered sadly.  
  
She turned on her heel and left the room, slamming the door as hard as she could.  
  
Out of frustration, Jarod slammed his fists into the wall. He was in disbelief of what he had just done. He had lashed out at his very own sister whom he had just spent precious days with. He closed his eyes as he sank back into the chair. He was on the verge of spinning out of control. He knew that his sister was right, that he was putting everything on the line, including her, for Marianne.  
  
********************  
  
Broots was shocked to learn of Marianne's apparent demise. He had hidden for days in their meeting place, waiting for Marianne to come. She never arrived. A week had passed before Ethan came for him and Debbie and escorted them both back to the house. Broots felt strange meeting Jarod's family, but he was sincerely happy for him and he was eager to see Sydney. Over the years as Broots had tracked Jarod's every move, he had come to respect him more and more. He was in awe of him really, because Jarod sincerely gave a shit. Jarod cared about people, and he helped them without asking for so much as a glass of water. But perhaps that wasn't the reason why Broots envied him the most.  
  
Jarod could wear leather from head to toe and completely get away with it.  
  
Broots had hoped that Marianne was with Jarod and his family. Learning that she wasn't only proved what he had suspected all along. He had ultimately failed her. He couldn't help her when she needed him the most. And he had to live with that fact for the rest of his life. She had terrorized him, threatened him and had been his truest friend. And just like Sydney and Jarod, he was miserable without her. Seemingly overnight, Broots mustered up the courage that he felt he needed in order to face his secret hero.  
  
"Whatever it's worth Jarod, Marianne really did change for the better. She turned out to be a compassionate person, Jarod."  
  
Broots' words cut like a knife in Jarod's heart.  
  
"Don't talk about her like she's dead." Jarod replied sullenly, crossing his arms.  
  
Broots drew a sharp intake of breath. It was now or never.  
  
"Why haven't you gone back for her?" He demanded, inwardly surprised by the very steadiness of his voice.  
  
Jarod raised an eyebrow. He was surprised by the tech's boldness, but realized quickly that it stemmed from his fierce loyalty to Marianne. He let out an exasperated sigh.  
  
"It's complicated."  
  
"Complicated?" Broots mouthed, incredulous. Now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow.  
  
"You don't hate her, do you?" Broots asked, suddenly fearful.  
  
It took a few moments for Jarod to respond, a crestfallen expression taking over his face.  
  
"Quite the opposite, Broots." Jarod replied furtively, his voice cracked by his sudden smile.  
  
"Quite the opposite."  
  
***************************  
  
Brigette sank low in the corner of the corridor. She had been waiting for hours for Lyle to leave the renewal wing. Brigette was alive and well, but dead on the inside. Only murderous revenge consumed her thoughts, the memory of her downfall all too fresh in her mind.  
  
They had taken what they wanted from her, and then they disposed of her like a piece of trash.  
  
She smiled as she watched Lyle finally exit the wing through the double glass doors. She had come to take the only thing that he had left.  
  
His prize chicken.  
  
Just what was the sick bastard doing to his flesh and blood?  
  
It didn't matter now. She would make him pay, in more ways then one.  
  
Brigette rose up slowly, and smoothed the wrinkles of her leather suit. In a deliberate gesture, she swung the doors wide open noisily, taking in the view. Miss Parker was on her bed serene, unrecognizable really, with that pretty hair of hers and her blank stare. Not even the creaking of the door had disturbed her. Haunting. This was way too easy. Brigette sat on the edge of the bed and placed her lips close to Miss Parker's ear.  
  
"Hello? Anyone home?" Brigette whispered, giggling.  
  
There was no response.  
  
"Do you have any idea what they're doing to you, love?" Brigette continued. She lowered her voice even more.  
  
"You're not so tough now, are you? Just goes to show what kind of a person you are."  
  
Brigette narrowed her eyes as she began to straddle Marianne between her legs.  
  
"When they've stripped you of all your defenses."  
  
Again, there was no response.  
  
Brigette smiled. Whatever they did to her, it had completely fried her mind. Miss Parker had left the building.  
  
"How does it feel, Miss Parker.to feel helpless?" She hissed as she wrapped her hands around her Marianne's neck.  
  
Brigette never saw Marianne's hand rise up. It had placed itself on the exact spot on Brigette's neck, cutting off her air supply. Brigette's eyes popped wide open, as she looked deep into Marianne's eyes in disbelief.  
  
She hadn't lost the will to live.  
  
She spoke clearly and deliberately as her gaze met Brigette's.  
  
"Let go of me, you stupid bitch. Before I beat that ridiculous British accent of yours out of you one more time."  
  
*********************************** tbc Your feedback is always greatly appreciated! 


	11. Revelations

My sincerest apologies for not posting sooner, a terrible head cold and midterms fell within the same week. Let's hope all the congestion didn't rattle my brain!  
  
Part 11 Apocalypse  
  
She hadn't expected this brutal and violent dance.  
  
She struggled against the iron grip around her neck. The melee had sent them both tumbling to the floor. She was gasping for breath, trying to scream out for forgiveness, trying to scream out her name. She wanted it to stop.  
  
Would she go this far?  
  
She desperately wondered, as her legs were being pulled out from underneath her. She could feel the weight of someone else's body on hers. Someone's legs wrapped taut around her torso. She could feel warm breath across her face, and smell the unmistakable sweet smell of gardenias.  
  
If she could, she would of laughed.  
  
"I guess reeducation didn't quite go over as well as your brother thought." Her voice was hoarse. It had lost all trace of British accent.  
  
"You don't know the half of it."  
  
Brigette's eyes flew open and she smiled. Miss Parker had never planned on killing her, at least not yet. She was flat on her back, but she had all the answers. It didn't matter that Marianne had managed to turn the tables and straddled her now. She would persevere.  
  
"If I were you, I wouldn't be smiling." Marianne observed as she yanked Brigette forward by the collar of her shirt, roughly shaking her.  
  
"You're dead Brigette. You're supposed be in a box somewhere, not here, trying to kill me." Marianne declared flatly, keeping her grip on Brigette's collar.  
  
Brigette didn't bother to respond, her eyes only glittered with contempt.  
  
"What did they promise you, in order for you to carry my son?" Marianne growled.  
  
"What's with the blonde hair?" Brigette snapped maliciously, a smile forming on her lips.  
  
Marianne raised an eyebrow as she brushed a strand of hair back from her face. She almost couldn't hide her amusement as she slapped Brigette across the face with back of her hand. Marianne didn't bother to keep her grip. She had released Brigette from her grasp, the impact sending Brigette tumbling backwards towards the ground.  
  
"You Bitch." Marianne observed, as she stood up, attempting to smooth her ruffled hair. "That's not what I asked for."  
  
Brigette glared as she picked herself off the concrete floor, tasting blood in her mouth. Marianne's diamond ring had caught on her mouth, tearing the fragile flesh of her lips.  
  
"I hated you." She rasped, as she wiped a bead of blood from the corner of her mouth. "I wanted nothing more then to knock you off. But I couldn't catch Jarod." She smiled, her expression turning nasty. "I wanted to put daddy's little girl in her place."  
  
"Don't go there." Marianne warned. "Unless you really want to die."  
  
"We were always on the same side, you and me. It took me awhile to realize that." Brigette admitted, grimacing as she rubbed the back of her head, inconspicuously backing away as she spoke.  
  
Marianne shook her head in disbelief. "Just what in the hell is it that you want?" She demanded gruffly.  
  
"I wanted everything." Brigette replied wryly. "I was promised everything. Your place in exchange for carrying your child."  
  
"What?" Marianne gasped.  
  
Brigette, ignoring Marianne's reaction, only went on.  
  
"I'm sure Lyle kindly explained it to you. The prophecy and what you mean to it."  
  
"He was enthusiastic, to say the least." Marianne deadpanned.  
  
"I did what they wanted. And then they threw me away." Brigette hissed. She paused, her expression suddenly faltering, she almost seemed sad. "They'll do it to you too."  
  
"You think I don't know that?" Marianne scoffed. " Why do you think I've been pretending to act like a vegetable?"  
  
Brigette began to laugh. It sounded like a bell but it was bitter one, full of pretension.  
  
"Why do you think they let you fail, as much as you did, why do you think they kept you alive?" Brigette began derisively. "Your life, Miss Parker, everything you know, everyone you know.is a sham."  
  
It was another revelation that Marianne was sure that she wasn't prepared for. She seldom liked anything that headed down this narrow side-winding road into her past. But Brigette had her full attention. She wouldn't dare interrupt.  
  
"Jarod." Brigette sighed. "Your relationship with Jarod has always been important to the centre. So much that they chose to take it a step further."  
  
Marianne was on the edge of her seat, hanging on her every word. She didn't appreciate the dramatic pause, didn't like the self-satisfied look on Brigette's face. "Go on." She urged, in a voice that she had never heard herself use before.  
  
"Do you think it coincidence that the man you're destined to bear children with, is the very same man who's so desperately in love with you?" Brigette replied scathingly.  
  
Marianne didn't realize that she had closed her eyes. For a moment, she was transported back to night on the porch swing. The feel of his lips, the look in his eyes, it had all been manufactured.  
  
"The centre invented the detestable practice of brainwashing. Emotional reconfiguration is hardly an accomplishment." Brigette added. "Those puppy dog eyes he's given you over the years is nothing more then a program, designed to propagate the prophecy."  
  
Brigette's delivery was clinical, perfect. It's lack of compassion was what sent Marianne flying into a rage. It only took her mere seconds to make it across the room, wrap her hands around Brigette's neck and slam her up against a wall.  
  
" You've always been nothing to me but a bloodsucker to do away with." Marianne declared slowly and softly, the calm look on her face betraying nothing of the rage that swelled inside her. Her eyes widened suddenly, the levy breaking.  
  
"You've done nothing to change that." Marianne accused, her voice strangled by the outpouring of emotion.  
  
"Everything I've ever known about my life was a lie." Marianne hissed. "Tell me something that I don't already know. Tell me something that is of use to me."  
  
Brigette had learned all too quickly to anticipate such a display of cruelty. The hands around her neck hurt, nonetheless. She drew a quick and sharp intake of breath. She tried not to smile. She thought of it as an accomplishment, to be able to smile after all the horrors she had gone through and witnessed. She knew that Marianne wouldn't see it that way.  
  
"Lyle wanted you to love him. The bloody bastard always has. That meant making you believe that whatever children you would bear from the treatment would be his and not Jarod's." Brigette replied, her expression softening along with the tone of her voice.  
  
"Treatment?" Marianne repeated, her voice cracking. She didn't know which horrible truth to dwell on first. Her brother's sickening attempt of manipulation or the thought of the apocalypse, possibly growing inside her.  
  
"Am I pregnant?" Marianne began slowly, her fury fading quickly into despair.  
  
"I don't know." Brigette quietly replied. "I don't want you here to find out."  
  
Marianne sank her head between her knees. It was moments like these when she wished that she hadn't given up drinking.  
  
"How the hell am I supposed to get out of here?" She wondered aloud in a defeated tone.  
  
The expression on Brigette face had softened entirely. "I can help you, Miss Parker, like I should have, long ago."  
  
"Considering the fact that you were intent on killing me just minutes ago, I'd have to say that I'm not entirely convinced." Miss Parker replied warily.  
  
"Years ago, I took away the one opportunity you had for happiness." Brigette whispered torturously. " I won't take away this opportunity for you to be with the love of your life."  
  
"Love of my life?" Marianne spat, her eyebrows raised as high as they could go. "Did you forget what you said? The fact that Jarod was programmed to love me?"  
  
"Yes I did." Brigette replied pointedly. "But they didn't do it to you."  
  
***************** She had tried her best. But her brother was stubborn, just like their mother had warned her. Emily sighed. Jarod and her scarce said a word since their confrontation. He seemed willing to listen at first but then something in him quickly changed. He was part of different world, something that she obviously a stranger to. This Parker woman was very much a part of this world, part of an organization that had committed unspeakable acts against him. Just why he was so unwilling to relinquish himself from that world, was a mystery to her. Her reasoning considered it foolish, the way he was preparing himself to throw himself in harm's way for someone so undeserving. It didn't matter that he had done it a thousand times before. He was a pretender, a genius. She didn't want to intrude.  
  
But it was times like these that made her feel like she knew best.  
  
The craziness in her life had seldom allowed her to make friends but she had an instant bond with Zoey. Jarod had sent her to live with her and her father after the kidnapping. Zoey was all sweetness and fun. She was very much in love with Jarod and everybody could see it, from the way she looked at him to the way she would rub his smelly feet. Emily thought that Jarod loved Zoey too.  
  
She still didn't understand why Zoey had left.  
  
The ringing of her cell sent it teetering over the nightstand. She caught it in a single swift motion before it fell to the ground. She flipped the cell phone open, and let out a deep sigh. She raised the phone to her ear hesitantly, dreading the conversation.  
  
"Zoey," Emily began ruefully, as she began to pace about the room. "I've failed."  
  
************* It had been a start of another sleepless night. And Jarod couldn't blame it on the rain. He had tossed and turned for several hours before finally giving up and settling himself in a chair by the window. Running his fingers through his hair, he inwardly groaned as he recalled the events of the evening past. He knew that he was doing the right thing but the way she looked at him from across the dinner table made him start to wonder. Emily had scarce said a word. If she meant to punish him then she was going the right way about it.  
  
Her silence was killing him.  
  
But Jarod found comfort in what seemed the most unlikely place. A child with understanding eyes.  
  
Jarod loved the way the child would settle into his lap at the end of the day and fall fast asleep. Save for a pretend that was many years ago, it was the closest he ever was to being a father. He would watch the rise and fall of the little chest, and it didn't matter that no progress had been made. He was beginning to wonder if the child had ever been given a name, much less remember one.  
  
"I will always take care of you," He had whispered to the sleeping child as he placed him in his crib that night. "I will never let you go." He looked at the child once more. "I will bring back your sister," he had said solemnly. "I promise."  
  
There came a cry from the end of the hallway. Jarod was broken away from his thoughts. He opened his door and poked his head out into the hallway. The cry was coming from the boy's room. Jarod bolted out of his room and rushed into the boy's room. The boy was in his crib, asleep yet having a nightmare. There was sweat on his tiny little brow, his hands were clenched into fists and his body was contorting amongst the sheets.  
  
"Mama." He cried.  
  
Jarod's ears perked up. Did he just hear.?  
  
"Mama." The boy cried out again.  
  
The boy was crying out for his mother. It was unmistakable.  
  
Jarod's gaze met his mothers as she rushed into the room. Before he could address her, there came a loud knocking sound. Someone was at the door.  
  
"Take him, I'll go get the door." Jarod said as he left the room.  
  
He walked down the stairs. The loud knocking continued, bordering on frantic. By the time Jarod had reached the door, he was already anxious, his hands gripping the baseball bat he had picked up along the way. He readied himself to swing if necessary, then with one hand, pulled the door wide open. He gasped as he let the baseball bat fall out of his hand, his mind failing him.  
  
He rubbed his eyes once and then twice. He closed his eyes momentarily, assuring himself that he was just weary, but SHE was still there.  
  
Surely it had to be wishful thinking.  
  
Had he gone crazy?  
  
Marianne seemed almost nonchalant as she stood before him. She was dressed in standard issue centre garb, a long cotton tunic with matching cotton pants. She wore garish looking tennis shoes, brightly colored a lime green, shoestrings hastily tied. There were bruises on her face, dotting her cheeks, some fresher then others, purple fading into yellow. Her blonde hair remained, only brutally cut short. Her eyes were clear and yet accusing.  
  
Why didn't you save me? They screamed.  
  
He had no explanation. No excuses to waste her time with. He wanted nothing more then to just take her into his arms and make everything go away.  
  
"What are you doing here?" He asked, his question obviously a stupid one, but he had no other means to convey just how unprepared he was.  
  
"I've come back for the child." She replied blithely, her expression even.  
  
Her eyes became searching, questioning. It was a lack of his response that was eliciting hers. She became suspicious, but then finally, a smile formed on her lips. It was a triumphant smile.  
  
" Jarod.I have come back for our son." ******************  
  
Tbc Feedback is always great! 


	12. China Doll

CH. 12 China Doll  
  
The look on Jarod's face was priceless. And no matter how Marianne tried, she couldn't wipe the stupid grin off her face. She had covered a great distance that day and she was on the verge of collapsing.  
  
It was worth it. He had rubbed his eyes twice. He had scarce said a word.  
  
She watched his face transform from absolute disbelief into horror. It had only taken mere seconds. He had swallowed hard, his eyes burning into hers.  
  
There was something that was making Jarod seem concerned, she was suddenly feeling frail, not herself. Something was wrong. She could feel her smile fading, her triumph fading.  
  
"Are you going to let me stand here in the rain," Marianne whispered as she stepped forward, lost her footing and sank into Jarod's arms.  
  
This wasn't part of her plan. She had gone through so much, fighting, clawing and kicking to this point. And now Jarod pitied her, holding her firmly against him. She could feel the tide rising up, threatening to sweep her away. She could see his lips moving, but she couldn't hear a word.  
  
"So this is how I die," Marianne muttered, feeling even weaker, but struggling to regain her footing.  
  
" I don't want your pity." Marianne whispered, looking straight into Jarod's eyes.  
  
It was then that she lost consciousness.  
  
***********************  
  
The whole matter threw the house in chaos that night. A bomb would have caused less damage. Never in his wildest dreams did Jarod ever anticipate this. Marianne, scathed, but alive had managed to escape the centre and made it to his doorstep.  
  
Her collapse was what made him finally snap into action. He tried to rouse her, keep her alert with words but he was too late. She was already limp in his arms.  
  
It was then that he shouted at the top of his lungs.  
  
Sydney had witnessed the entire thing, but had yet to say a word. Ethan and Charles had tried to help, but Jarod would have none of it. He scooped her up into his arms and carried her up the stairs. He made extra effort of being careful. She looked like china doll, pale, and just as breakable.  
  
He was convinced that if he failed her now, she would shatter into a thousand pieces.  
  
The very image of it made him shudder. The whole family followed somberly behind, some still yawning and wondering what had happened.  
  
He put Marianne in bed, checked her pulse and her pupils. Her blue-gray eyes were now blank, showing no trace of the ardor that he had seen just minutes ago. Gruffly, Jarod gave out orders. Emily had shot him a dirty look, but obeyed quickly, bringing down extra blankets from the linen closet to keep Marianne warm.  
  
Jarod was glad that she did. He wasn't in the mood to be criticized, much less questioned.  
  
Margaret had volunteered to watch over Marianne, thereby letting Jarod off the hook. He knew that Marianne was going to be fine, but it gave him time to think, time to absorb the information that he had just been given, and that was the last thing he wanted to do. He stepped out into the front porch, considering a short walk in the nearby woods, but then quickly decided against it. He couldn't stray far, especially if Marianne's condition turned for the worse. The one thing that he couldn't get out of his mind was the look on Sydney's face. It was if he had known all along. Before he knew what just what his intentions were, he raced up the stairs, banging on Sydney's door, not caring whether the old man had retired to bed or not.  
  
Sydney was in fact awake. He opened the door and sighed. Jarod was on the other side, his chiseled features set in hard line that was his lips. Jarod brushed past him wordlessly, patiently waiting for the old man to settle himself in his chair, Sydney had expected this. His protégé had become unhinged. His usual intense stare was replaced by a wild-eyed look, his frenetic pace about the room unlike his usual deliberate movements.  
  
"What did you hear?" He asked, in an agitated tone.  
  
"Enough." Sydney replied calmly.  
  
"You knew about this, didn't you?" Jarod demanded, the pitch in his voice rising.  
  
Sydney made no reply.  
  
"DIDN'T YOU?!" Jarod shouted.  
  
"Didn't you?" Sydney repeated his question, unmoved.  
  
Jarod gasped, a small sound that could have been compared to that of a wounded animal escaping his lips. He suddenly turned his back on Sydney, his eyes beginning to water.  
  
"Don't tell me that that it didn't once cross your mind that the boy was yours. His close resemblance to Marianne was already enough, but you saw yourself in him as well." Sydney observed quietly, crossing his arms. He started to smile. "He has Marianne's eyes. But it's your soul that shines in them." He added. "Jarod, you have a son."  
  
"Yes, but in the worst way possible." Jarod curtly replied. "His mother hates me."  
  
Sydney was about to interject but Jarod wasn't finished.  
  
"Marianne and me? Raising a son together? How utterly twisted does that sound?" Jarod laughed bitterly, but at the same time, wiped the tears that flowed freely from his eyes.  
  
Sydney sighed and shook his head. He had never known two people who were so foolish to fight so very hard. Jarod and Marianne fought so hard against what they so secretly desired the most. If they weren't careful, they would end up destroying what they cherished. Each other.  
  
"The best things in life," Sydney began, as he gingerly placed his hand on his protégé's shoulder.  
  
"Have always been meant for you."  
  
*********************  
  
Jarod had fallen into fitful sleep at Marianne's bedside. After waking up three times every hour on the hour, he decided to give up. He peered cautiously through tired eyes at Marianne, or what was left of her. He couldn't put this off any longer. He tried to adopt a professional attitude. But there was no sense in lying.  
  
This examination would be far more personal then anything.  
  
He had approached her cautiously, half expecting her to snap out of her slumber and waste him on sight at any moment. He had rolled her onto her side, pushing the rough fabric away, searching for the gunshot wound. It happened to be healing nicely. The rest of her body was a mess. She had two deep lacerations that were across her back, so red against her pale skin it seemed like they were fine rivers of blood, crisscrossing her flesh. Her knees were skinned, bruises on her neck, shoulders, arms, and legs.  
  
Her belly had been left alone, the damage kept away from her vital organs.  
  
Tears began to roll down his face, as he pushed the fabric away further to inspect, the realization like a kick in the teeth. All this damage that lay before him could have been prevented. He sighed, averting his gaze carefully away from the most private parts of her anatomy, suppressing the urge to look. He muttered to himself softly, recalling what his sister Emily had told him long ago. Men were pigs. And being locked up in an institution that had exploited his genius for the past thirty years didn't render him immune. It was damn near impossible to forget, to rip away the sultry sweet memory from his mind.  
  
He hadn't seen her in this provocative fashion since that fateful day many years ago.  
  
He couldn't remember just how old he was back then. Somewhere between a boy and a man. She had stolen into his room, but it wasn't for the usual misadventures she would drag him into. He had already been made painfully aware of the power that she had held over him. This became even clearer that day. She muttered something about being angry with her father, at least that's the most he could remember. She was so hurt, reaching out for comfort with a nubile expression on her face. He would never forget that beautiful face.  
  
That was when Marianne kissed him.  
  
It was different from the first time. It wasn't innocent or even shy. She was already pressed up against him, and his mind wandering, along with his hands. He couldn't understand it then, why he was excited beyond comprehension, beyond his means. There was only one thing that he was made sure of.  
  
This was something he would never dare ask Sydney about.  
  
Just like any other moment the centre had stolen from him, this was torn from him as well. He was sure that it must have not looked very good, caught with the chairman's daughter, with his trousers at his ankles.  
  
He still couldn't remember just how that happened.  
  
But he had paid the price. He still had the faded scars, crisscrossing his back.  
  
*******************  
  
"She's alone." She whispered, as she paced around the room, cell phone in one hand, twirling a lock of her long brown hair with the other. She paused, frowning. "I don't know!" She yelled out suddenly, quickly checking herself, she lowered her voice to a vehement whisper. "She just showed up. He wasn't even expecting her." She let out a deep sigh, placing one hand on her hip. "I'll make it clear," She began as she sank onto her bed.  
  
"I'll make it clear that she's not wanted."  
  
Emily snapped the cell phone shut. She flung it onto the bed with a dissatisfied grunt.  
  
So much for a happy reunion.  
  
She had been planning it for weeks now. And then SHE just had to show up. It had thrown everything and her into upheaval. But it didn't matter now. Her energy had to be directed differently, that was all. That meant making sure that Zoey and Jarod would be together again.no matter what.  
  
And she would start fighting for it right now.  
  
******************************  
  
The child was in his crib, awake and alert. Jarod looked at him and smiled. The sun had risen and was shining it's light into the boy's room, making everything seem new and fresh.  
  
"I heard you crying for your mother." Jarod said quietly. He placed his hands on the rails of crib and leaned close.  
  
"I don't know what they did to your mother, and I don't know what they did to you, but you can tell me, can't you?"  
  
The boy only smiled. His blue eyes glittered in the reflection of the sun. He held out his arms high. He wanted to be picked up.  
  
"Can't even tell your own father what your own name is, can you?" Jarod said with a smile. He scooped him out of his crib.  
  
"What is your name?" Jarod asked.  
  
The boy made no reply but laughed. It seemed like he had forgotten his bad dream. He tickled the boy, making him laugh even more. The boy tucked his head into Jarod's neck and blew raspberries.  
  
Jarod closed his eyes. "Does it matter?" He murmured.  
  
"I love you." Jarod whispered, feeling his emotions suddenly rise up and overwhelm him. Tears sprung from his eyes and he held onto the boy even tighter.  
  
"I love you so much."  
  
He heard a small noise behind him. He turned to see what it was. It was his mother standing in the doorway, with tears in her eyes.  
  
"Marianne's awake." She said, shaking slightly. She had heard everything.  
  
"Mom-I" Jarod began guiltily.  
  
"You needed immediately. She's in bad shape." Margaret replied, swallowing hard.  
  
********************** Marianne awoke screaming. She sat up in bed as if she had been shot out of cannon and began howling. She had knocked over a lamp in her start and sent it tumbling to the floor, shattering. Jarod rushed into the room instantly surveying the situation. Large beads of sweat had broken onto her forehead, her body writhing and convulsing amongst the sheets. She was awake and struggling, her eyes had rolled back into her skull.  
  
His sister Emily was at her side, looking like a deer caught between a pair of headlights.  
  
She shrank away as he approached, her head bowed and her ears a bright pink. He stared at her briefly, and then shook his head. Marianne had all his attentions now. He placed his arms around her convulsing body, trying to calm her as best he could. It seemed like an eternity, trying to hold her steady, as she violently clawed against him. She was still screaming when Ethan finally made it into her room.  
  
"Hold her Ethan." Jarod demanded. His jaw clenched as he motioned for Ethan to come closer.  
  
"She doesn't where she is. She's scared. Help her."  
  
His disappointment surged as he watched Marianne burst into tears in Ethan's arms. They had known and confided in one another for the past thirty-odd years. And he had been shut out. Surely he could have helped her through this.  
  
"Make them go away." She sobbed. "Make the voices go away."  
  
"It's okay, Marianne." Ethan soothed. "It's okay."  
  
"They did to him what they did me." She continued, the tears rolling down her face, as her gaze rested squarely upon Jarod.  
  
"Our son's name is Kyle."  
  
**************tbc*********  
  
Feedback.it's the best! 


End file.
